


Terrible Love

by stefi



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Anal, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Oral, Yes homo, breaking up, friends to lovahs, just bros bein' bros, just some bangin in general, phinfei
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 19,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefi/pseuds/stefi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short fics born from asks on my tumblr. No real particular order here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crush

He’s extremely frustrated.

Every hideout is left with more doorways than when they arrive, thanks to Phinks punching giant holes in all the walls. Eventually, someone in the Troupe (probably Machi, she can’t stand all this dramatic behavior) tells Feitan “Look, he’s driving us crazy. You gotta talk to him. He listens to you"

When Feitan confronts Phinks, of course it’s a huge mess…

“Whatever your problem is, it’s distracting everyone,” Feitan tells him.

Phinks scoffs and turns his back. “I’m workin’ on it.”

“Not quickly enough. If it’s about a job, I’ll go with you,” Feitan tells him.

Phinks shakes his head and faces Feitan, his arms crossed. “It’s not a job, Fei.”

Feitan crosses the room to stand in front of Phinks. When the taller man tries walking past him, Feitan blocks his path with his umbrella. Phinks stops, knowing he’s trapped. “Is… is it the Chain User?” Feitan asks quietly. “If he restricted you, I’ll make him wish he hadn’t.”

Phinks bites back a smile and crouches slightly so he and his companion are eye level. “It’s you, Fei.”

“I don’t understand.”

"And you think I do?” Phinks starts. “I didn’t expect this, and I don’t know why it’s happening… but I can’t control it and even if I could, the outcome would be the same,” he sighs before continuing. “ I really like you, Fei. And not the friendly ‘like’, either.”

“Shal was right,” Feitan says, tossing his umbrella aside and removing the scarf from his face. “You /do/ sound like a girl with a crush.” He places his hands on Phinks’ shoulders. “You’re blushing like one, too,” Feitan informs Phinks before kissing him on the cheek.

Phinks sits on the floor and pulls Feitan down and against him. “Please don’t play with me,” he says before Feitan lightly kisses his lips. “I mean it,” he warns.

"So cute,” Feitan teases before kissing him again. 

Phinks gives him a withering look. “Fei.”

Feitan presses his forehead to Phinks’. “You’re all mine now, you know.”

Phinks chuckles and says “I know,” before finally returning his kiss.


	2. Scared?

Feitan climbed across Phinks’ lap to sit astride him. “Hi,” he said quietly.

“They could be back at any minute,” the taller man sputtered. His hands flew to Feitan’s hips despite his protesting.

“I want a kiss, idiot,” Feitan argued. “You had no problem giving me one on that last job.”

“What if someone sees?” Phinks asked, watching Feitan’s hands come to the zipper on his track suit’s jacket.

Feitan laughed quietly and pulled the zipper down. “Scared?” He challenged as he leaned in and kissed the corner of Phinks’ mouth. Small hands spread the jacket open and the shorter man reveled in his partner’s fevered skin.

“Course not,” Phinks lied. When Feitan’s mouth came down onto his pulse point, Phinks threw his head back and pulled Feitan hard against him, hands settling under his ass. He felt Feitan’s clever little tongue on the spot that drove him mad and Phinks let out a groan.

“Good,” Feitan whispered before biting gently. When he felt Phinks’ hips buck upward, Feitan pressed his down, grinding into him. He curled one hand behind Phinks’ neck and cupped his cheek with the other. “You’re blushing,” he informed him.

“Shut up,” Phinks instructed before kissing him roughly. He licked Feitan’s bottom lip, secretly thrilled when the smaller man sighed into his mouth. Phinks didn’t waste the opportunity to slide his tongue into Feitan’s mouth. “You taste like tea, baby.”

Feitan nuzzled his nose near Phinks’ ear before nipping it lightly. “And you taste like shit,” he replied. 

Phinks inhaled sharply. “Not my fault you only wanna make out after I have a smoke, ya know.”

Neatly trimmed nails skimmed down Phinks’ chest. “How long do you think we have?”

As if on cue, the lock on the door clicked and Phinks tossed Feitan from his lap. Shalnark entered the hideout with Shizuku in tow.

“They didn’t have that beer you guys wanted,” Shizuku explained, setting down two shopping bags. “Hope hard stuff is okay.”

Feitan coughed and Phinks placed a pillow in his lap. 

“Fine with me,” Feitan said, eyeing Phinks.

“Are you guys okay?” Shalnark asked, grinning. “You look guilty.”

“I’m fine,” Phinks said instantly. “Never better.”

Oblivious, Shizuku headed to the area serving as their kitchen. “I’ll get us some glasses.”


	3. Idiot

It really was all Uvo’s idea. Or fault. And Shalnark was all too quick to agree to it. And Feitan backed the two of them up. 

A night out. A couple’s night out. A double date. Date night. Double gay date night. 

Phinks wondered if he and Feitan were becoming more domestic as he stared at the baseball in his hand. Thieves and murderers don’t become domesticated. And even if they did, he felt silly thinking he and Feitan could have a little house with a picket fence and some cats. Phinks sure loved cats, though. 

He felt an elbow in his thigh. “Hurry up,” Feitan urged him. “Throw the ball.” 

Phinks frowned. “I’m trying to focus.” 

“All these carnival games are rigged, anyway. Its not as though you’ll knock anything down,” Shalnark teased him. 

“I will, too!” Phinks shouted. He rolled up the sleeve on his right arm and started winding it in a clockwise motion. “Six should do it.” 

Feitan opened his umberlla while Uvogin ducked under the counter, covering Shalnark. 

“One… two… three… four…” Phinks counted out loud. 

—– 

“So six was probably too many,” Phinks remarked later. 

“Six was definitely too many,” Uvogin said around a mouthful of pizza. Shalnark dabbed the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth helpfully. 

“Maybe,” Phinks said with a shrug. “I won Fei that sweet prize, though.” 

Feitan looked up from his bucket of french fries at the giant stuffed teddy bear seated beside him. He pet its neon pink stomach to humor Phinks. “I love him.” 

“I coulda won you a teddy bear, honey,” Uvo told Shalnark. 

“I already have one,” Shalnark said, rubbing his nose against Uvogin’s. 

“Oh my god,” Phinks complained. “Can you guys stop for two seconds?” 

“You’re no better,” Uvogin said. “You hand is on Feitan’s ass right now.”

“That’s where he sits!” Phinks justified. 

“Really? Really…” Shalnark said. 

Feitan shrugged. “It’s comfortable.” He wiggled on Phinks’ hand to emphasize his point. 

Shalnark covered his eyes. “No more!” 

Phinks leaned down and kissed Feitan’s forehead. 

“Baichi, so sweet…” Feitan praised him. 

“Eww,” Uvogin complained. “We get it, we’ll stop!” 

—– 

“These rules are stupid,” Feitan complained. “I’ve never even played.” 

“Don’t be a big baby,” Uvogin told him, spinning a bowling ball on his finger. “We did what you wanted to do, now it’s my turn to pick something.” 

Shalnark clapped from his post at the score keeping desk. “Get me another strike, Uvo!” 

Uvogin turned and winked at Shalnark, who pretended to faint in his seat. 

Feitan gave Uvogin a look. “You two are so embarrassing.” 

“You’re just jealous that Shal and I are a better couple,” Uvogin said while hurling the bowling ball at the doomed pins at the end of his lane. Another strike just for Shalnark.

Feitan said nothing, rolling yet another ball into the gutter. 

“Although you have a cute Chinese pet name for your guy,” Uvo conceded. “It makes ‘honey’ sound so generic.” 

“Baichi means ‘idiot’.” Feitan explained. “There’s nothing cute about it. Besides. We don’t need to be cuter. We just need to be better at this stupid game.” In the next lane, he saw his betracksuited boyfriend winding his arm up with a bowling ball in his hand.

—–

 

They walked home after the bowling alley people threw them out. Destroying alley property went over as smoothly as destroying the carnival booth, it seemed.

“People need to lighten up,” Phinks complained, walking with his arms behind his head.

Uvogin grunted in agreement. Shalnark was thrown over one of his shoulders, sound asleep.

“Still. It was nice to get out,” Feitan lamented somewhere under Phinks’ track suit’s jacket. “I’d never been on a date before.”

“I take you out all the time, Fei,” Phinks argued.

“Doing shots in a seedy dive bar after carrying out a job doesn’t count.” Feitan tried to fold his arms, but the sleeves of the track suit jacket were just too long for such a thing. “Maybe I want a nice dinner. Maybe I want romance.”

Phinks frowned, leading the way to their hideout’s entrance. “Maybe you need to communicate these things to me!” He realized he was starting to yell when Machi ‘shoosh'ed them. “Now Uvo and Shal think I’m a bad boyfriend,” he stage whispered, pointing at the pair.

Uvogin shrugged, now carrying a very much awake Shalnark in the direction of their shared room. “Like I said, Feitan…”

Fists clenched, Feitan shrugged out of the track suit’s jacket.“We have nothing to prove to you.” He hopped into Phinks’ arms and glared at Uvo. “Take me to bed, baichi”

“G'night, Uvo,” Phinks called over his shoulder. When he reached his bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind him.

“Hey Uvo?” Shalnark asked.

“Hmm?”

“Does Phinks know what 'baichi' means?”

The muffled sound of squeaking bed springs echoed through the entire hideout.

“I don’t think he really cares, Shal.” Uvo said.


	4. Crush II

Feitan’s group caught up with Machi, Nobu, and the others two days after leaving Meteor City. They had the same luck his did in finding a Nen excorsist, it seemed. After finding a suitable hideout to recoup for a few days, everyone settled in. Machi set Feitan’s broken arm, Shizuku found some new clothes, and Shalnark busied himself with building new antennae for his mobile phone.

Phinks paced, mostly. When he wasn’t lifting boulders or beams, or running for hours, or drinking with Nobunaga and Feitan, he was pacing. Each time Shalnark’s phone would beep or buzz, Phinks would stop whatever he was doing and the most hopeful, pathetic look would cross his face. Worse still was his disappointed reaction after learning it wasn’t the boss reaching out to them.

He needed a distraction or someone was going to kill him. 

“He’s driving us crazy,” Machi confided in Feitan during one of Phinks’ nightly runs. 

“How, exactly?” He asked. They were all seated together, enjoying a quiet, Phinks-free meal. 

She set her beer can down and shared a look with Nobunaga. Clearly they had discussed the matter in private. The swordsman sighed and nodded before speaking. “He won’t shut up about the boss,” he explained. “ ‘I wonder where the boss is’, ‘Why hasn’t the boss called us?’, ‘I hope the boss is okay’, ‘Do you think the boss is eating enough?’ , ‘If I say I miss the boss, on a scale of 1 to Rainbow, how gay does it sound?’… we’re all extremely tired of it, Feitan.” 

“He needs to be silenced,” Kalluto agreed. Everyone at the table looked at their newest member. Kalluto shrugged. “Not like that,” they clarified. “…well…” They let the statement hang. 

Feitan sighed. “I don’t know what you all expect me to do about it.” 

“You’re the boss for now,” Bonolenov reminded him, the fight with Zazan only days prior still fresh in everyone’s minds. 

“He’ll listen to you,” Franklin speculated. 

“He listens to you anyway,” Shizuku commented. Kortopi nodded in silent agreement. 

Feitan frowned. While he supposed everyone was right, it didn’t make him want to approach the subject any more than he previously did… but the boss would do it. And right now, he was the boss. “Fine.” 

 

It was well after everyone was through eating when Phinks returned. He burst in, sweating and panting and looking like a glorious, muscular mess. Sometime during his run he discarded the jacket portion of his tracksuit, leaving himself quite shirtless. He was using said jacket to mop the sweat from his face when Feitan cleared his throat. 

“Oh, hey Fei,” Phinks panted. “Thought you were in bed.” 

He continued wiping his face and chest off as he walked toward the couch Feitan was occupying. 

Feitan swallowed dryly. “I decided to wait up.” 

A crooked smile graced Phinks’ face. “You didn’t have to do that,” he sat down and began drying his sweat-soaked hair. “I’m a big boy, ya know.” 

Before he realized where his eyes were going, Feitan found himself looking at Phinks’ lap. “I, ah, I wanted to,” he lied lamely. When Phinks stretched his arms high above his head and flexed his pectorals, Feitan had to look. It would be rude not to. “Run was good?” Great. When upset or flustered, Feitan’s grammar was the first thing to go. 

Phinks shrugged. “It was fine, I guess. Why you asking?” 

“Curious,” he said quickly. The blond didn’t buy it. 

“Right. Well, I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Nice,” Feitan blurted before biting down on his own tongue. 

“What?” 

“What.” 

Phinks stood in front of Feitan and crouched to be eye level with him. “Are you okay, dude?” He lifted a massive hand and pressed it to Feitan’s forehead. “Your face is all red.” 

“You’re really hot in here-IT’S really hot in here. It is,” Feitan corrected himself, “It’s hot. I’m hot. Warm. It’s warm.”

Phinks frowned, concerned. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

Feitan, eye level with those glorious pectorals, only hummed in response.

Phinks placed a giant hand on Feitan’s shoulder. “Fei?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze. “Damn dude, you’re wound really tight. You know what you need?”

Feitan nodded, eyes glassy.

“A massage!” Phinks clarified. “I’ll get Machi, she’s brutal.”

“Not necessary, no,” Feitan snapped out of his body appreciation briefly. “No troubling her. Plus my arm,” he pointed to his recovering arm.

Phinks nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” He stood up. “Well, I could help you a little. I mean, I’m not great, but I can work a kink out.”

“I bet you can,” Feitan said before thinking.

Phinks blinked. “What?” 

“What.”

“Anyway, I better shower first.” Phinks made to leave the room.

“Touch me with your sweaty hands, don’t-!” Feitan started, waving his good hand back and forth.

“Ahh, there’s your grammar issues,” Phinks teased him. “Something is definitely bothering you. I’ll be right back!”

Feitan hid his face in his scarf and glared at the floor. That was definitely not a grammar issue… Ugh! Why did his stupid friend have to be so sexy!? This was awful. He slid off the couch and sat on the floor with his arms crossed. How the Hell did Chrollo deal with things like this? What would danchou do?

That thought did little to alleviate Feitan’s mood. Visions of Chrollo seducing an oblivious Phinks entered Feitan’s head and did little the quell the sudden, bizarre ache he was developing for his stupidly muscular friend. If anything, it made it even worse. Before Feitan had enough time to ruminate over the matter further, he felt Phinks settle on the couch behind him.

Oh God, he was between Phinks’ legs.

“You,” Phinks started in his ear. “Are fucking tense, dude.” His hands rested on Feitan’s shoulders and gave a light squeeze.

Feitan didn’t have it in himself to disagree. “It’s been a weird week.”

The other man only hummed in agreement, pressing his thick fingers deep into the tight muscle tissue joining Feitan’s shoulders to his neck. “Must be hard being in charge,” Phinks mused. “I wonder how danch-”

“Stop talking about him,” Feitan interrupted, waving his hand. “You’re driving everyone crazy.” He wasn’t jealous. Not really. “Besides, I’m in charge.”

It was quiet for a moment between Phinks’ kneading hands and Feitan’s increasingly labored breathing.

“Should I call you 'danchou’?” Phinks asked.

Feitan’s resolve was gone. He slapped Phinks’ hands from his shoulders and stood up. With Phinks seated, they were nearly eye-level, Feitan with the height advantage for once. “Shut up!” he shouted. “Just shut that stupid mouth of yours.”

Phinks frowned. “I’m just trying to-”

“I said shut up.”

“Rude,” Phinks folded his arms across his bare chest. Feitan’s wandering eyes did not go unnoticed. With a smirk, Phinks flexed his pectorals.

“Stop that,” Feitan protested. “You’re not funny.”

Phinks continued to flex one pectoral, then the other. “You sure?”

Feitan pursed his lips, trying to frown and not succeeding. This adorable idiot… 

“If I didn’t know any better,” Phinks started, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees, “I’d swear that you have a cru-”

“I said shut up,” Feitan insisted, stepping forward.

Phinks smirked. “Make me.”

And Feitan did.


	5. Education

It was such a long day. Coming home and passing out is all he wanted to do.

The job was easy enough, but the commute… if he never had to stray that far from base ever again, it would be too soon. Phinks rotated his punching arm counter-clockwise to even out the tension that had built up in it. He really didn’t want to be sore in the morning. 

On his way into the kitchen area, he saw Kalluto sitting by themselves. “You’re up late, aren’t you?” Phinks asked them. 

Kalluto’s eyes didn’t leave the paper dolls they were cutting. “I couldn’t sleep. How was the job?” 

“Over now,” Phinks told them, reaching into the refrigerator for a beer. He popped the can open and all but inhaled it. The empty can sailed into the trash can. Phinks leaned against the fridge after reaching inside and getting another beer out. “If you were waiting up for me, you didn’t have to.” 

Kalluto crumbled up their paper dolls. “I wasn’t,” they lied, covering up a yawn. 

Phinks smiled his crooked smile and pulled up a chair across from the youngest spider. “Look, I don’t know how things work on that weird-ass mountain of yours, but it’s okay to watch out for each other here. It’s expected, even.” He opened his beer. “So, you can go to bed now, if you want.“ 

Kalluto nodded. “I was about to anyway,” they padded their way to their room. 

Phinks finished his beer and headed to his own bedroom minutes later. Upon entering his room, Phinks unzipped his jacket and tossed it to the floor. His shirt underneath followed it. After pulling his socks off, he crawled into bed, pleased to find it wasn’t empty. “Hi, Fei,” he whispered, spooning himself behind his bedmate and pulling him close to his chest. 

“You’re early,” was the sleepy reply.

Phinks buried his nose in Feitan’s hair. “Mmm, I had some good motivation.” 

“Someone might hear,” Feitan warned him, pressing his bottom against Phinks’ hips anyway. 

“Everyone’s asleep,” Phinks argued. He nipped Feitan’s earlobe and sloppily kissed his way down his neck. 

“You smell like a beer,” Feitan said. 

“I can brush my teeth, I guess,” Phinks made to get up, but Feitan rolled out of his grip and pinned him onto his back. 

“You’re going nowhere,” Feitan breathed against his lips before kissing him soundly. 

Phinks curled his arms around Feitan’s small body and crushed him hard against him. His hands wandered down Feitan’s sides and came to rest on his ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze. “I’ve been thinking of this all day,” Phinks breathed against Feitan’s mouth before sliding his tongue inside. 

Feitan laughed into Phinks’ mouth. “My ass?” 

Phinks growled in return, flipping them so his body covered Feitan’s. He positioned himself on his elbows and knees over the other man and kissed his bare chest. “Your ass, your chest,” he palmed Feitan’s crotch and stroked him for a moment through his pants, “your dick.” Feitan’s hips bucked into Phinks’ large hand. “Mostly you, though,” he finished, cradling Feitan’s head in his hands and kissing him deeply. 

“You fucking girl,” Feitan teased him. “Take your pants off.” 

Phinks pinned Feitan’s wrists over his head in one hand and all but tore his pants off with the other. “I’ll show you a fucking girl,” he rasped. Once his own pants were removed, he roughly freed Feitan from his. Taking him in his hand, Phinks told him quite confidently “No girl has ever done this to you.” He smirked, watching Feitan throw his head back into the pillows. 

“Stop talking,” Feitan panted. He pushed Phinks by the shoulders further down his body until the other man’s face was level with his crotch. “Suck me.” Phinks eagerly complied. Feitan hooked one leg over Phinks’ shoulder and pumped his hips up off the mattress into the other man’s mouth, hanging onto his head with both hands. “So good,” Feitan whined. He pushed Phinks’ hair back away from his face and admired the view, sighing when they made eye contact. 

Phinks groaned deep in the back of his throat and sat up. “I want you,” he practically growled, reaching over for the bottle they kept on the small table by the bed. He handed the bottle to Feitan and laid on his stomach beside him. “Please, Fei.” 

Feitan sat up and rolled Phinks onto his back. “I want you like this,” he said, opening the bottle and spreading Phinks’ legs. “You know I like to see you.” He spread the lube over three of his fingers and circled Phinks’ hole with his index finger before pushing it in. When Phinks gasped, Feitan smiled. “You’re like a virgin every time, baichi. So cute…” he kissed the inside of Phinks’ leg by his knee while inserting a second finger and spreading his boyfriend open. 

Phinks moaned low and flung his arm across the bed, grabbing the sheets and yanking them roughly. “Hurry up,” he demanded. “You’re killing me, dude.” 

Feitan laughed softly while lining himself up. “Always so impatient.” He pushed in slowly and stopped completely once he was all the way in. 

Ever impatient, Phinks sighed and wiggled his hips. “C'mon, babe. Fuck me.”

“Kalluto.” Feitan was looking over his shoulder at the door to Phinks’ room. 

“W…whaaaaat?” Phinks whispered. Oh God, ohhhh god, oh god, no. Phinks sat up and sure as shit, Kalluto was standing in the doorway with a look of sheer horror on their face. Phinks scrambled to throw the sheet over his torso. Feitan’s decency be damned. 

“I heard a noise,” Kalluto explained, embarrassment coloing their entire face. “I thought you were fighting someone,” they hid their face behind a kimono sleeve. “I had no idea it was… well… I…” 

“I knew this would happen sooner or later,” Feitan said, his bare ass still facing the doorway. “Kalluto, can you give us a minute to get dressed here?” Kalluto blushed even deeper crimson before leaving the room hurriedly.

A few minutes later, once Phinks and Feitan were decent, they went out into the kitchen where Kalluto was seated at the table, staring at their hands. 

“You look like you’ve seen some serious shit,” Phinks joked. Feitan elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Kalluto,” Feitan said quietly. “What you saw was… how do I say this?”

“So when you really like someone, and they really like you back,“ Phinks started. “You, uh… can share a special hug.”

“A special hug?” Feitan asked, incredulous. “That’s the best thing you could come up with?”

“You two weren’t hugging,” Kalluto said. 

“We were, you just couldn’t see where,” Phinks explained. 

Feitan coughed. “Anyway, Kallu, when you’re old enough and you find someone that you like the way Phinks likes me and you like them the way I like Phinks… you can also do that with them.”

“We’re talking about having sex,” Phinks clarified. Feitan rolled his eyes. “But not now. You’re way too young.”

Kalluto shrugged. “It’s nothing I’m really all that interested in.”

“When you’re older. Much older. In your thirties,” Phinks said.

Feitan cleared his throat. “So, from now on, if you hear things coming from Phinks’ room at night…”

“Don’t bother,” Kalluto finished. “Got it.” They stood up. “With that enlightening information, I think I’ll go to bed. Again.”

Phinks nodded. “Us, too.”

“Just, this time?” Kalluto asked on their way out. “Can you guys maybe keep it down?”

Phinks laughed and Feitan looked wholly uncomfortable. “We’ll do our best,” the shorter man promised.


	6. Selfie

He’d never done this before. What even went into this process? When Feitan asked him days prior for something to remember him by, Phinks was the one who asked for clarification. Being apart for a week was killing him and he wanted to humor the transmuter’s request, but he’d honestly… he’d never… 

Phinks felt stupid. How does one even go about taking a dick pic? What’s the acceptable hardness level? What’s the proper lighting? Is it cool if his hand is in the shot? Does someone else take it for him? What are the clothing requirements?

“Why do you even want one, Fei?” He grumbled into his mobile phone.

“For when I’m thinking about you later, idiot,” Feitan answered. Muffled screams could be heard in the background. He hated it when Feitan called him while he was working. It was too distracting.

“Do you not want to?” Feitan asked. “You can back out if you’re scared.”

“Oh, I want to,” Phinks said, half sure, half daunted by the challenge.

“Mmm, you don’t sound like you want to,” Feitan teased him. Another scream ripped through Phinks’ ears. Honestly, the least Feitan could have done was hit mute before resuming his torture practice. So rude…

“I do!” Phinks shouted, frustrated. “Just you wait. Check your phone in five minutes. I’ll send you the hottest dick pic ever.”

Feitan cackled on the other end of the line. “Phinks is going to send me nudes, huhuhu…”

“Don’t show it to anyone,” Phinks warned. “Or you’ll never see it again.”

“I’ll have a nice memento,” Feitan joked. 

“Feitan.”

“Phinks.” More screaming. God. Shut up.

He clenched and unclenched his fist while he devised a way to get a smokin’ hot boudoir-style selfie together for his lonely boyfriend. “Like I said. Check your phone in five minutes.”


	7. Cohabitation

"I think we should move in together," Phinks blurts, riding a post-coital high. It's a relatively quiet evening and they're hiding out between jobs at a posh hotel.

 

Feitan blinks at the ceiling before turning onto his side to face Phinks. He covers the lower half of his face with the sheet and furrows his brow. "What?"

 

"You and me," The blond man explains. "We could live together."

 

"We usually do." Feitan says.

 

Phinks frowns and turns onto his side to face Feitan. "I mean like live together all the time. Not just between jobs, or sharing a room at a hideout." He scratches at the back of is head and glances away for a second. "I mean, if you don't want to..."

 

Feitan blinks in response.

 

"It's just, you know. We're together all the time anyway," Phinks carries on. "And I'm so used to being around you that it's weird when you're gone."

 

Feitan arches an eyebrow, but keeps his face hidden. It would give too much away.

 

Phinks sighs. "I guess you could say that I like your company. I mean, we get along great and the sex is usually pretty awesome, right?"

 

Feitan shrugs. He's holding out for more and Phinks is just... too stupid to realize it. As usual.

 

"Well, what do you think about it?" Phinks asks, running a frustrated hand down his face. He's obviously embarrassed.

 

"Our current arrangement is fine," Feitan says quietly. "Why should we change it?"

 

"We're not I guess. Except I don't know. We sort of could?" Phinks sits up and rips the sheet away from Feitan's face. "Stop hiding, I'm trying to be serious here."

 

Feitan folds his arms across his chest and glares at his bedmate. "Then be /serious/."

 

If the realization striking Phinks could have been any more visible, a lightbulb would have gone off over his head. With a crooked smile, he scoots closer to Feitan and slides himself lower on the bed. He rolls onto his stomach and rests his head on Feitan's chest. When Feitan puts his hands in Phinks' sex-mussed hair, the larger man sighs happily.

 

"I want us to live together, Fei," Phinks says, starting over. He feels it, more than he hears it when Feitan asks him why. Phinks shuts his eyes tightly, already dreading the teasing that will come with his sentiment, but he says it anyway. "Because I'm in love with you."

 

"Idiot," Feitan laughs fondly. 

 

Red-faced, Phinks sits up and glares down at the shorter man. "I just spilled my guts to you, don't tease me! Bastard."

 

"Of course," Feitan starts, twining his fingers around Phinks'. "We can live together. I want us to."

 

The deliriously pleased look on Phinks' face is too much for him, so Feitan kisses him. And kisses him. It's a lot of work to get what he wants out of Phinks, but the payoff is usually worth it, Feitan's sure.


	8. Bickering I

“Phinks, what the Hell is this?” 

The reclining blond looked up from his fitness magazine to eye the short, angry man brooding in his doorway. In Feitan’s hands was a single sock. 

“Is this a trick question?” Phinks asked. His answer was steely silence. ‘Shit,’ he thought. ‘Not again.’ Phinks cleared his throat and set his magazine down. Reading up on the finer points of strength training was going to have to wait. “It looks like a sock, Fei.” 

Feitan dropped the sock over the threshold to Phinks’ bedroom. “A sock. Yes,” he started. “A dirty sock, actually.” He ignored Phinks’ placating smile. “Dirty socks don’t belong on the bathroom floor, do they?” 

“I don’t think they do,” Phinks offered. Of course socks don’t belong on the bathroom floor. This was not new information. This was one of Feitan’s common complaints. 

Feitan frowned. “It’s confusing me, then, why I found one in there.” 

Phinks sat up from his reclining position on his bed and swung his legs over the side. He really wasn’t in the mood to bicker. “I forgot about it, is all,” he explained, meeting Feitan under the threshold of his bedroom door. “All my other clothes made it into the hamper, see?” He nodded his head in the direction of the hamper in the corner of his room, overflowing with dirty clothes. “It must’ve just fallen out of my hands on its way back in here.” 

Feitan’s rage seemed to wilt slightly. “Well. Pay more attention next time.” He turned to leave. 

Phinks smirked and looped an arm about Feitan’s retreating form to pull him against his chest. “Heh, not if it means you’ll come back to my room again.” 

Feitan, facing away from Phinks, rolled his eyes. “Idiot.” He smiled.


	9. Bickering II

“We’re going to be late,” Phinks fretted, pacing the hallway. 

“It doesn’t start for another hour,” Feitan reasoned, his voice muffled by the door separating the two of them. 

Phinks glanced at his watch. “You’re not factoring in traffic, getting a parking spot, finding a seat…” he sighed. For Phinks, if he wasn’t twenty minutes early somewhere, he was late. Punctuality was extremely important to him. 

Feitan opened the door to his bedroom a crack and eyed Phinks. The taller man was already fully dressed in his tuxedo, his hair had been slicked back in its signature style. Car keys jingled in his impatient hand. “It’s just an auction, Phinks. And we’re not even bidding. There’s no real point in getting there for when it starts.”

“You know,” Phinks sighed. “Sometimes I think you pull this shit on purpose.” He ran a hand through his hair and frowned down at the smaller man. “I went through great pains-”

“Here we go,” Feitan interrupted. “Look, timeliness isn’t all that important.”

“Says the guy who makes us late for everything,” Phinks argued.

“We’re never late for anything!” Feitan countered, opening the door wider. He pointed at Phinks with his umbrella. “If anything we’re right on time.”

“On time is late!” Phinks shouted, punching the door the rest of the way open. He got a good look at Feitan, who was completely dressed in a tux as well. Just to make sure Feitan was really there, Phinks looked him up and down a second time.

Feitan folded his arms across his chest. “What?”

“What?”

“This,” Feitan mimicked Phinks’ once over of his appearance. “Why the elevator eyes?”

Phinks blushed. “Shut up.”

Feitan poked him hard in the stomach. “I caught you checking me out, admit it.”

“Shut up!” Phinks shouted, red faced. “I was just making sure you didn’t forget anything.”

“Forgetting anything,” Feitan laughed. “Right.”

Phinks frowned and tugged at the scarf draped over his shoulders. “Whatever. Let’s go.” He led the way to the car they were planning to use for the night. Feitan followed closely behind him, fully appreciating the backside of his friend the entire way to the car.

They really needed to dress up more often.


	10. Jealousy

Fei, where are you headed?”

Feitan paused by the door and shrugged. “Out.” He picked up his umbrella and tapped it on the outside of his foot. “Shalnark and I were going to get drinks.”

“Drinks?” Phinks asked. “There’s beer here, ya know.” He closed his magazine and crossed his legs.

Shalnark toed his shoes on and glanced at his mobile phone. “Yeah, but we’re after harder stuff tonight! Right, Fei?”

Harder stuff? Fei? Phinks frowned. He thought only he called Feitan that. “Yeah, I suppose if you like girly drinks, you can’t really make them here at home. Well, enjoy your fruity adventure. I’ll be here. Drinking beer. Like a man.” Alone.

“We will,” Shalnark promised, putting an arm around Feitan’s shoulders. Now just what the Hell did he think he was doing?

“Don’t wait up,” Feitan said on his way out the door, a smiling Shalnark in tow.

When the door clicked shut, Phinks threw his magazine at it.

 

Hours later, they returned. Shalnark was flushed and stumbling, gripping his mobile phone in both his hands. Feitan relied heavily on his umbrella, using it as a cane. Phinks, having not moved from the couch the entire time, glared at the inebriated pair.

“How was your date?” Phinks asked icily.

“Hahah…. date?” Shalnark asked. He sat on the floor by the couch, his shoulder bumping Phinks’ left knee. Feitan curled up beside Phinks on the couch. He looped an arm around Phinks’ torso and tucked his legs up under his rear. The two of them reeked of alcohol.

“Baichi,” Feitan quietly whined. “do not feel well…” He pressed his forehead into Phinks’ arm. When Feitan got flustered (or drunk, it seemed) his grammar suffered heavily.

“Serves you right, ya know,” Phinks grumbled.

Shalnark’s head lolled to the side to rest on Phinks’ knee. Phinks had half a mind to knock the other blond over, but when he heard soft snoring coming from the manipulator, he decided he didn’t have it in him. Even less so when he heard a soft, sleepy “Uvo,” escape his lips.

“Sad tonight,” Feitan slurred into Phinks’ arm, poking Shalnark’s shoulder with his foot. “Misses Uvo.”

Phinks frowned, feeling like an asshole. He considered what the date was before realizing that their friend had been dead for a year already. “Shit, I forgot what today was…”

Feitan crawled into Phinks’ lap and nuzzled his nose into the taller man’s neck. “Don’t leave me like Uvo left him,” he said. “Please.”

“Never,” Phinks promised, wrapping his arms around him.

Feitan inhaled Phinks’ scent deeply, fisting the fabric of the tracksuit under his hands. “Me too,” he told him. “Should we go to bed?” He started kissing Phinks’ neck.

Phinks considered it. Feitan was always fun in bed when he was hammered, but… “I think we should probably keep Shal company tonight. He seems like he needs it. Don’t you think?”

Feitan’s light snoring was all the answer he got.

Well. That settled that, he supposed.


	11. Jealousy II

Where the jealousy came from, he couldn't exactly say. There was no particular time or date, it just sort of manifested itself over a period of years. He hated the feeling. Small, inferior, unattractive... second rate. What's worse is he felt as though he were serving as some sort of replacement or place holder. A subsititute. And that stung worst of all.

While on missions with Phinks, it was even worse.

"Hope the boss is happy with the job," Phinks would say. Or "Do you think the boss will like this?". Or "Man, I can't wait to get back to the hideout. The boss is really gonna be pleased to see this.".

It was all he'd hear until the job was completed. He hated that he preferred taking missions with Phinks. The bright spots were when he'd have to interrogate someone, if only to let some steam off. It was best when Phinks observed. "Watch this," Feitan would dare him. 'I'm good at what I do, too,' he'd think, eyes locked with Phinks', ears hardly registering the piercing screams of his victim.

Even then, it would be all about Chrollo.

"Keep him alive," Phinks would say, arms crossed. Interested, but not really interested. "The boss might want his ability."

Feitan killed more of his victims out of spite than necessity. 'Chrollo has enough. Let me at least have this.' Petulance and jealousy made justifying his actions all the easier.

He hated to admit it to himself, but when Chrollo left to find a Nen excorist, Feitan was glad. It wasn't that he didn't like the boss, far from it actually. It was more he didn't have to watch Phinks moon over their leader. The wave of second hand embarrassment he had to suffer each time Chrollo addressed Phinks... it became too much to bear at times when coupled with his envy.

And it was nice to be the sole focus of Phinks' attentions for once.

They were never really in a relationship, not really. They weren't exactly exclusive, either. Feitan was never jealous of anyone else but Chrollo, however. It was never "just sex" when it was with the boss. Not for Phinks. Feitan was sure of it. He wasn't going to think about that right now.

Feitan bowed his back as Phinks rocked his hips upward. He watched his own sweat collect in the dips and ridges of Phinks' muscled chest. Looking at Phinks' face, his pupils dilated, his face flushed, and his hair... God, his hair... soft and blonde and perfect. Feitan could pretend all he wanted, but it was never "just sex" for him with Phinks. He looked down at Phinks' face and tousled the already sex-mussed hair he liked so well. Phinks closed his eyes tight and nuzzled his nose into Feitan's palm.

"I'm close, Fei," he panted.

Feitan slowed his movements and leaned down. Nose to nose with Phinks, he whispered "Why rush it?". When Phinks leaned up to kiss him, Feitan sighed into his mouth. "Just stay with me, please." He never kissed anyone. Only Phinks.

Phinks groaned under him, hands gripping his hips painfully. "You feel too good, I can't..."

"You'd do it for the boss," Feitan spat.

Phinks stilled. "What?"

Feitan climbed off of Phinks and sat with his back to him. "Don't you 'what' me, I'm not stupid. If you're so in love with the boss..." he didn't even know how to finish that sentence, he was so angry.

Phinks sat up and pulled him back into his lap, Feitan's small back pressed tightly to the other's chest. "What are you talking about? You think I'm in love with the boss?"

"Aren't you?"

"Of course not," Phinks said all too easily. He rested his chin on Feitan's shoulder. "I do my best when I'm on a job for him. That's more for the group than just the boss, though. And he's sexy, sure. I try to please him, but everyone does, Fei." It was no secret that Chrollo had slept with everyone in the Troupe, but he definitely had his favorites.

"I don't." Feitan argued.

"Why not?"

Feitan glanced sideways and the blonde head on his shoulder. The stupid blond, impossibly fluffy-haired idiot he was hopelessly in love with. "I like someone," he said simply. His face felt like it was on fire.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Phinks asked. He lifted Feitan and turned him so they were facing each other. "You could have told me, you know."

"I figured it would have been pointless," Feitan said quietly.

Phinks laughed and kissed his cheek, then his forehead. "Idiot," he said. "Don't you think if I knew I would have done something?"

"I don't know," Feitan frowned, but locked his hands behind Phinks' neck all the same. "You know now. What are you gonna do?"

Phinks showed him well into the morning hours.


	12. Sick

Phinks woke to the feeling of being watched. He cracked one eye open and scanned the dark hotel room he was currently sharing with Feitan. Not seeing anything, Phinks rolled over to face the bed across the room only to notice that its occupant was missing. ‘Must be in the bathroom,’ the Enhancer thought, rolling onto his back. He closed his eyes and started to drift back off to sleep when a fevered forehead rested itself on his chest. 

Before Phinks could react, he heard Feitan quietly inform him that he was probably dying. He’d never seen his partner in crime come down with so much as a sneezing fit, let alone a fever. Had he known tailing their mark in a downpour in the middle of October would have made Feitan so ill, he would have opted for them to stay in drier hiding places. 

“You’re not dying, Fei,” Phinks reassured him, attempting to remove the warm body clamped around him. Feitan was latched onto Phinks like some sort of parasite. He threw a pale arm across the taller man’s torso and trapped one of Phinks’ legs between both of his own. His soft black hair fanned across the blond’s chest while his fevered head pressed tightly against the other man’s arm.

“Don’t move, you’re letting cold air in on me,” Feitan complained as he buried his nose into the crook of Phinks’ elbow.

“Cold air? Bro, you’re burning up,” Phinks informed him. “and you’re makin’ me all sweaty. Let go.”

“Body heat,” Feitan reasoned and latched onto him all the tighter.

Phinks sighed. It was going to be a long night, he was sure of it. “If you let me go for two seconds, I can go get the blankets off of your bed.”

Feitan frowned, but loosened his death grip anyway. “Hurry back,” he commanded, pulling the blankets up to his nose. “I’m cold.”

Phinks rolled his eyes, but did as he promised. He dumped the blankets on the side of the bed Feitan had stolen and wrapped his friend as tightly as he could in them. “You look like a burrito,” he joked.

Feitan didn’t find this terribly funny. “Still cold,” he complained. He inched his way closer to Phinks and rested his head on the other man’s shoulder.

“Under this many blankets, you’ll be able to sweat it out,” Phinks assured him. 

It was a strange, though not unwelcome surprise when Feitan snuggled tightly aganst him. “Body heat,” he reiterated. He started to shake.

Phinks begrudgingly acquiesced, dreading how sweaty he was about to become. Even in the dead of winter he usually only slept with a sheet, his body ran so hot. To be under layer upon layer of heavy blanket with a fevered Feitan wrapped around him, he knew he was not going to be comfortable. He got under the blankets all the same, however. With his arms open he quietly invited Feitan closer. “Okay, come here.” His cheeks felt hot, but it was only because of how warm he was. That was all.

Feitan slithered his way on top Phinks, with his legs on either side of the other man’s hips and his hands placed carefully on his chest to pillow his own head. He sighed, satisfied. “Mmm, you’re warm.”

While he wasn’t really counting on the smaller man to climb on top of him, Phinks didn’t complain. The condensation forming on Phinks’ neck from Feitan’s mouth breathing, however, was anything but pleasant. “Glad I can be of service,” Phinks replied sarcastically. He started to pet the top of Feitan’s sweat-slicked hair, but to what? To comfort him? He had no idea, but he was sure if the circumstances were different, there’d be no way in Hell this would be allowed. The thought unexpectedly disappointed him.

Feitan sighed again and adjusted himself on top of Phinks. “Feels nice,” he muttered sleepily. “I like your body.”

Phinks snorted. “Thanks, I think?” Feitan only hummed in response and pet Phinks lightly on his chest before succumbing to sleep. 

The next morning, Phinks woke up drenched in sweat despite his chills and a fever hot enough to rival Feitan’s hatsu. When the smaller man moved to get out of the bed, Phinks yanked him back and pulled him to his chest. “Cold,” is all Phinks offered for an explanation.


	13. Stomach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken from the kiss meme on tumblr. This is #13: Stomach Kiss

Feitan was doing his very best not to stare. As someone who appreciated not having curious eyes on his own person, he really felt like a hypocrite. Although, he debated internally, when someone has a body like Phinks', it should be considered rude not to stare at them. The tanned blond had a physique built for worship. It seemed a crime to Feitan that his friend hid such a perfect body under a giant robe, or on days like this one: a tracksuit. Phinks should just always be shirtless, Feitan decided. He nodded in agreement with himself.

They were training, or rather a shirtless Phinks was powering through his lifting regimen while Feitan pretended to clean his sword. Each time Phinks' sculpted arms lifted the bar over his head, Feitan watched with near-perverse fascination as the muscles of his stomach flexed and rippled.

His stomach, yes. That was probably Feitan's favorite part of the other man's body. At least what he'd seen of it. Feitan couldn't speak for the rest of Phinks' body, though it didn't stop him from imagining it. 

"Should I be posing for all these mental pictures you're taking of me?"

Phinks' comment snapped Feitan out of his reverie. "What?"

The blond sat up on the weight bench after setting the bar down with a clang. "I should be charging you admission, Fei." He patted his sweat-slick body down with a towel as he advanced on Feitan. When he was close enough, he looped the towel behind the smaller man's neck and dragged him closer. "See something you like?"

Not one to be outdone, Feitan slid his hands up to rest on Phinks' jutting hip bones. "Sure do," he taunted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Phink's stomach. His tongue hit Phinks' stomach first, then his teeth. He bit softly at the salty skin there before licking at it again. His lips closed around the area of skin he'd been tasting and he drew it in, sucking gently before letting Phinks go.

Phinks released a shuddering breath before dropping the towel he'd trapped Feitan with. "I'm gonna go take a shower," he said lamely, cheeks aflame. "You can join me. If you want to, I mean." 

Feitan smirked, following Phinks' retreating backside (which he also supposed was rather impressive). "Nice."


	14. Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the kiss meme on tumblr. This was for prompt #17: Goofy Kiss

"I feel like a jerk, ya know," Phinks confessed on an exhale of smoke. He sat naked, a sheet draped over his lap. 

Utterly debauched, Feitan was sprawled out beside him on his stomach with one arm hanging off the side of the bed. He opened one eye to regard the man who nearly made him black out a few minutes ago. "That was... whatever that was, there's no reason to feel like a jerk. It was amazing," Feitan drawled. "What are you even talking about, baichi?" 

Phinks sighed and stubbed out his cigarette into the bedside table. He rolled onto his side to face Feitan. "That," he said, pressing his thumb to Feitan's bottom lip. "I don't call you anything cute."

Feitan bit gently at Phinks' thumb until he withdrew it. "You don't need to. There's nothing cute about me."

"I disagree," Phinks argued, pulling Feitan on top of him. "I think you're very cute." He reached up and interlaced Feitan's fingers with his own. "Tell me how to say 'cute' in Chinese, Fei."

"What?" Feitan bit back a laugh as he sat up, knees on either side of Phinks' hips. "No," he refused. He pushed his hands down against Phinks' to gain the physical advantage over the prone man. Phinks may have been superior in strength, but Feitan had the higher ground.

Phinks pushed up on Feitan's palms. He easily lifted the smaller man higher and scooted him backwards to sit between his legs. Phinks sat up, not breaking his hold on Feitan's hands. "Then tell me what baichi means," he demanded, pulling Feitan's hands behind his back.

Feitan squirmed, but it was pointless. "Phinks, no," He breathed, trying not to laugh.

"Phinks, yes," Phinks argued, mouth descending on that spot just below Feitan's ear. "Tell me."

"It'll spoil my fun," Feitan said shakily. He wrapped his legs around Phinks' hips to gain some kind of leverage and pulled himself closer. Phinks was hard again. Surprise.

"If it's fun you're after, you know I'm your guy," Phinks informed him, getting up on his knees and taking Feitan with him. He let go of Feitan's hands and watched as the smaller man's back hit the mattress before folowing him down. "Now tell me," he repeated, kissing Feitan's neck.

Feitan pounded half-heartedly on Phinks' chest while his neck was assaulted by the larger man's mouth. "I won't," Feitan declared, gasping.

"You will," Phinks promised, kissing Feitan's cheeks, then his forehead, then his nose. "I'll annoy you with affection until you give in," he punctuated his point by licking Feitan's upper lip. When Feitan opened his mouth to fire back, Phinks' tongue invaded. It was less a kiss and more laughing into each other's mouths by the end of it.

Later, when Phinks finally fell asleep, Feitan watched the rise and fall of the other's chest. A sleepy, satisfied smile graced Phinks' features making him look younger than he truly was. Feitan fought the urge to sweep the fluffy mess of blond hair from Phinks' forehead, but ultimately lost. What began as an insult evolved over time to an endearment, and honestly Feitan couldn't think of a more suitable name for the sleeping man beside him. "Idiot," he whispered fondly.


	15. The New Guy

“‘Take the new guy out,’ danchou said. ‘It will be fun,’ danchou said,” Feitan narrated his instructions sarcastically.

There was nothing fun about his current situation. Feitan stood watch at the alley’s entrance as his rookie companion emptied the contents of his stomach into a dumpster. The blond, ‘Phinks,’ he called himself, wobbled his way through the garbage toward Feitan and leaned against the cool bricks of the dilapidated building.

“That was kinda gross, sorry,” he apologized, unwrapping a piece of gum before popping it into his mouth. “I’ve just never done that before.”

Feitan snorted, turning away from the taller teen. “Don’t apologize to me,” he said quietly. “If anyone needs an apology, it’s your mark.” Feitan nudged his toe against the dying man sprawled at the most unnatural angle. The body twitched. “Are you always so careless?”

Phinks frowned, his face flushing red. “It’s not my fault he saw me coming!”

“Rookie,” Feitan teased him. “If you really wanna join our gang, you can’t be so sloppy.”

“I’m not sloppy!” Phinks shouted. “At least… I tried not to be.”

Feitan advanced on the new kid. “Trying doesn’t matter. Completing the job does. Being fast matters, being effective matters.” He spat to the side. “You’re neither of these things.”

Phinks balled his fists. “What do you know about me, anyway!?”

“I know enough,” Feitan replied. “I know that was your first attempt at a kill.” He closed the distance between them and craned his neck to glare at him. This blond kid was stupidly tall. “I know you’re scared.” He jabbed at Phinks with the end of his umbrella. “And I know you’re not cut out for this. Go home, kid.”

Phinks smacked the umbrella away and grabbed Feitan by the front of his shirt. “I’m 17, I’m not a kid!”

Feitan was quick, sweeping his leg behind both of Phinks’. The other boy fell hard on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. Not exactly the desired effect, but he’d make it work to his advantage somehow.

“Shit dude, are you okay?” Phinks asked him, concern all over his face. He pushed some hair away from Feitan’s forehead.

Feitan pushed at the other teen’s chin while smacking his hand away. “Get off me!” He wheezed. “You’re heavy, idiot.”

Phinks sat up on his knees, straddling Feitan’s thighs. He seemed to consider something for a moment before standing and offering a hand to Feitan to help him up. A hand Feitan of course refused.

“We should head back,” Feitan decided, picking up Phinks’ ill-gotten gains from his still-twitching victim. “While your methods need work, I’ll admit they’re impressive.”

Phinks grinned at the almost-praise he received. “Really?”

“No,” Feitan said flatly, hiding his smirk behind a scarf. “Now that our work’s done, let’s head back to base.”

Heading back to base meant “Let’s party” in Spider-speak. Phinks had entirely too much to drink, arm wrestled with Uvogin, told Chrollo dirty jokes, annoyed the shit out of Machi and Pakunoda with his vocal stylings, and ultimately passed out with his head in Feitan’s lap.

“Phinks,” Feitan slurred. He poked the place where an eyebrow should be. “Oi, Phinks, get off me.”

Phinks snorted and rolled onto his side, burying his face into what he called “Feitan’s dress”, but it’s more of a robe, really, thank you very much. Whatever he grumbled was absorbed in the fabric and the heat from his mouth spread across Feitan’s stomach in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. You know, if he liked guys.

With an exasperated sigh, Feitan wiggled his thighs to free himself. He managed to shimmy Phinks half way off his lap before the other boy fell to the floor with a less than graceful thud. Phinks sat up, yawning. Objective met.

“What time is it?” Phinks asked him, voice thick and sleepy. He scrubbed at one eye with his shirt sleeve. With all of Feitan’s wiggling, Phinks hair had gotten quite messy. Most of the gel he used to style it had worn off, showing off the fact that he actually had very fluffy, almost curly hair. It was so cute Feitan couldn’t stand it.

“Time for your ass to go to bed,” Feitan began to help him up.

Phinks stood with much effort, using Feitan as his crutch. The pair stumbled and staggered their way to the room they were currently sharing. Feitan guided Phinks to his bed and helped him sit. “Time for sleep, Phinks.”

Phinks made a noise somewhere in between a whine and a laugh as he gripped Feitan’s wrists in his hands. He laid back on his bed, pulling the shorter teen with him. Feitan landed on top of the blond, an indignant blush staining his cheeks. He was glad he didn’t bother turning on the lights. 

“You can sleep in my bed,” Phinks whispered.

The room felt ten degrees hotter. “I-I have my own bed,” Feitan stammered.

Phinks pulled him down so their faces were level. “Hey,” he breathed. “Can I kiss you, dude?”

Feitan blinked, surprised. “What? Why?”

“Because you’re so cute and I kinda have a huge crush on you,” Phinks explained, laughing at himself. “So can I?”

Feitan hesitated, considering. Phinks was pretty drunk, and probably half asleep. On the other hand, he had his facilities about him enough to keep Feitan trapped against him with seemingly minimal effort. Still, he had to be sure. “Will you remember this tomorrow?”

“I’ll probably never forget it,” Phinks promised. One of his hands went to hold the back of Feitan’s head, thick fingers threading through his long hair. “I won’t ask a third time, Fei.”

Determined that he wouldn’t forget, Feitan nodded. He licked his lips before pressing them to Phinks’. He felt the blond’s arm sneak its way across his back, his big hand resting at the small of his back. Emboldened, Feitan let his tongue poke out and lick at Phinks’ bottom lip.

Phinks gasped and pulled Feitan tighter against him. The black haired boy swiped his tongue against Phinks’ lips again, though this time it met the other’s. Feitan sighed into Phinks’ mouth and gripped the sides of his head, forcing him to stay still. Angling his neck slightly, Feitan continued to lick and kiss at the teen beneath him.

When he finally let Phinks go, Feitan sat up to catch his breath. Phinks seemed to be doing the same. “That was,” Phinks panted. “…wow,” he finished.

Feitan smirked. “Remember not to forget,” he said softly before leaning down and pecking him chastely. He then sat up and swung his legs off Phinks’ bed. “You’ve had your kiss, now go to sleep. Maybe you’ll get another tomorrow night,” he joked. On his way to his bed, he could have sworn he heard Phinks hum with excitement.


	16. Anniversary

“I thought you were on a job,” Feitan said, distracted from his task.

“Just got back,” Phinks said, walking into the posh apartment. “Pretty quick smash and grab; I didn’t even get to kill anyone. I gotta run the jewels to danchou, but that can wait ‘til later.” 

He settled himself comfortably on a plush leather wingback chair. He was wearing a suit, something Phinks rarely did for a job. It must have been quite the smash and grab if he had to dress up for it. 

Feitan hummed softly, looking over the tools on the medical tray. He considered each one carefully before settling on a scalpel. A muffled scream came from the room’s third occupant. The man was in his pajamas and bathrobe. Feitan had him duct taped to a kitchen chair. His arms were bound behind his back, while each of his legs were taped securely to a chair leg. He was covered in sweat and, judging by his appearance, Feitan had only just begun working on him.

Phinks sighed. “How long are you gonna be, bro?”

Feitan flipped the tool in his hand twice. He looked at his victim, but spoke to Phinks. “I suppose that all depends on how cooperative this guy wants to be. Why?”

“I wanted to take you out after.” Phinks said, loosening his tie.

“Baichi,” Feitan said fondly. He set the scalpel down, ignoring his work for the moment, and crossed the room to stand before the blond thief. 

Phinks sank back further into his chair and spread his legs so the smaller man could stand between them. Feitan wasted no time. He grabbed Phinks’ tie and tugged gently, urging the other to lean forward. When he did, Feitan cupped his tanned jawline with long, delicate fingers. 

“My handsome man,” he mused. “Visiting me at work, and dressed so nicely…” When Phinks’ hands slid past his hips to cup his ass, Feitan sighed. Their foreheads touched. “What did you do?” Feitan whispered, low and dangerous.

“Nothing, I swear!” Phinks’ hands flew from Feitan’s rear in an ‘I surrender’ gesture. “Can’t I make a romantic gesture without you getting suspicious?”

“You only seem to make romantic gestures when you’ve screwed up. Now. What did you do, Phinks?”

“Nothing, Fei. Honest!”

Feitan narrowed his eyes and let go of Phinks’ tie. “I’d hate to find out that you’re lying to me.” He leaned back, away from Phinks. “As would you.”

Phinks peered over Feitan’s shoulder and informed Feitan’s captive “Can you believe this guy? I surprise him at work and announce that I’m taking him out on a romantic date for our anniversary and this is how he reacts.”

The bound man looked away, not wanting to get involved. It was bad enough he was likely to die tonight, he didn’t need mediating a lovers’ quarrel to be his final act. Especially if they were going to be killing him in a few minutes.

“It’s our anniversary?” Feitan asked.

“You forgot?”

“You know I don’t bother remembering dates. I don’t even know my birthday. Are you sure?” Feitan crawled into his lap and looped his arms around Phinks’ neck. “It’s really our anniversary?” he repeated softly. 

“Well, yeah.” Phinks said. He pulled the scarf from Feitan’s face and tucked some of that long, black hair behind his ear. “It was a year ago that I told you how I felt. Remember?”

“I remember,” Feitan nudged at Phinks’ nose with his own. “You were so embarrassed.” He tugged at Phinks’ tie to keep his face close. “And cute. Trying to win me over with that silly parasol.”

“It was an antique,” Phinks rationalized. “Stealing it was a real bitch, too.” He pulled Feitan tighter against him, one arm securing him against his chest while his fingers traced the other’s chin and bottom lip. “And then you didn’t even want the fucking thing,” Phinks finished, laughing.

“I still have it, you know,” Feitan confided. 

“Why keep it? You didn’t exactly love it,” Phinks said.

“No, but you gave it to me, and I love _you_ ,” Feitan replied, blushing.

At a loss for words, Phinks closed the minute gap between them. He palmed Feitan’s cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth, then sofly bit his bottom lip, dragging it down slightly before kissing it. Feitan reciprocated, his tongue brushing Phinks’ lips. He held the blond’s face in his hands, tilting his head slightly to better their angle. He kissed Phink’s top lip, then pushed his tongue inside the other’s mouth. Phinks’ tongue brushed across Feitan’s and they continued to lick and kiss and bite and grope at one another with mounting ferocity until they were interrupted.

Their prisoner cleared his throat purposefully, hoping to gain their attention. Feitan’s mouth slid across Phinks’, frowning as he regarded their rude captive. Phinks couldn’t have been bothered, his mouth moving to Feitan’s neck as the noirette turned. Feitan’s eyes remained locked on his would-be victim, considering his options. 

“Give me two minutes,” he told Phinks, prying the blond’s wandering hands from his torso.


	17. Finally Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's really NSFW. Whoops.

Feitan was on him the moment the door closed. 

“Something on your mind, Fei?” Phinks asked as he leaned back on the couch while Feitan pulled at his pants.

“Get your dick out, I’m not fucking around,” Feitan breathed into his crotch.

They were finally, finally alone after living in cramped quarters for more than two weeks. Keeping their relationship a secret was taking its toll on Feitan. He had to share a room with Kalluto and Kortopi along with Phinks and he hadn’t touched the other man in what felt like years.

Feitan dug into Phinks’ pants and wrapped practiced, pale fingers around the girth of him. He pumped a few times, feeling Phinks harden under his hand. “Miss me, baichi?” Phinks bucked his hips off the couch in response and pulled his pants down past his knees. Fei rolled up his sleeves and continued to stroke the other man. He watched, rapt as precum beaded steadily from the swollen head. Phinks had the leakiest dick and Feitan fucking loved it.

Phinks urged Feitan’s head down with one hand while fondling his pert little ass with the other. “Stop talking,” Phinks said. Under different circumstances, Feitan might have made a jab at the other man’s expense, but he had his priorities. 

Locking eyes with Phinks, Feitan darted his tongue out to lap at the pool of precum collected at the slit. It was salty and bitter and utterly Phinks. Feitan’s lips closed around the head of Phinks’ dick and he hollowed his cheeks, sucking him in as his head sank lower into his lover’s lap.

Phinks squeezed Feitan’s ass appreciatively. “Fuck, dude,” he breathed. “I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

Feitan hummed low in his throat and dragged his tongue along the underside of the shaft in his mouth. What he couldn’t fit of Phinks’ length in his mouth, Feitan tended to with his hand. His expert wrist pulled and twisted slightly, fingers tightening only to loosen minutely. Phinks throbbed enthusiastically in his hand before spilling into his waiting mouth.

Feitan sucked a few more times, sure he had swallowed it all when Phinks shuddered, his legs kicking out involuntarily. He felt Phinks’ big hands on either side of his head, drawing him up for a lazy kiss. He assisted Phinks in pulling his pants back up. The tall blond was always so helpless after things like this. 

“I fuckin’ love you, you deviant,” Phinks told him, already falling asleep. He laid across the couch, tucking Feitan against him.

“You’d better.” Feitan told him, settling his head on his shoulder.


	18. Skirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extremely NSFW.

The soft material flapped carelessly, revealing much more of Feitan’s thighs than he was used to.   “This is the most stupid disguise I’ve ever had to wear,” Feitan said quietly.

Phinks’ eyes wandered down his companion’s frame appreciatively. Feitan wore a fuzzy pink sweater with a white, pleated skirt that was entirely too short to be considered wholesome, knee-high white socks encased his legs, and pink Mary Jane shoes on his feet. “Oh, I dunno about that. I think it’s pretty great.”

Feitan rolled his eyes and crossed his legs, knee high white socks giving him some of his modesty back. Phinks’ eyes seemed undeterred. “You know, if we’re posing as father and daughter, you shouldn’t be leering at me like that,” he told Phinks.

Phinks wanted to make a ‘Daddy’ comment, but even he knew that was a bad idea. Plus Feitan was older than him. He thought. He wasn’t sure. It’s hard when people don’t know their own birthdays. “I can’t help it, Fei,” Phinks said. “You’re just too pretty.”

Feitan blushed at the compliment, but flipped the other man off anyway.

“That’s not very ladylike,” Phinks teased, pushing Feitan’s hand down onto the table. He finished his coffee and crushed the paper cup easily in his massive hand. 

Feitan folded his arms across his chest and did his best to look like a bored teenage girl. “When do you think we’ll see him?” he asked, referring to their mark.

“Not having a good time?” Phinks asked.

“I want out of this outfit,“ Feitan complained, pulling at the hem of the white, pleated skirt to cover the tops of his thighs. “I could kill Shal for finding something so indecent.”

Phinks smirked, a cheesy line about also wanting Feitan out of his outfit at the ready, but he spotted their mark. “Look alive, sweetheart. Time for Daddy to go to work.” He stood and started winding his arm, not bothering to look behind as he began to trail their victim.

Feitan cringed before standing with a drawn out sigh. “Please don’t call yourself ‘Daddy’ ever again,” he said. 

They made short work of their target once they cornered him. Feitan didn’t even get a chance to do any bloodletting on the bastard before the intel they required was given up. Phinks finished him off with a one-rotation punch (though a quarter rotation would have sufficed). Once they got rid of the body, they took the long way back to the safe house.

Phinks walked, hands in his pockets. Feitan was close beside him. Pale fingers occasionally brushed the bottom of the skirt hem teasing at his thighs in some attempt to keep it down. When Phinks slowed his pace to even out with Feitan, he cleared his throat.

“You know, Fei…” he started.

“Hmm?”

“You should maybe, I dunno… keep that outfit. Or something.”

Feitan stopped. “Are you kidding?”

Phinks shook his head. “You look so cute, it’s kinda turning me on,” he admitted, grabbing Feitan by the arm of his pastel pink sweater and turning him to face him. 

The sudden motion made the skirt billow slightly. Feitan pressed his knees together. Phinks was the worst flirt, even on his best day. “Someone could see,” Feitan protested.

“I wanna see,” Phinks argued, his arm winding up as he stepped away. A subtle breeze was created by the motion. He watched, fascinated by the way the skirt lifted slightly.

Flustered, Feitan slid his palms between his legs to keep the skirt in place. “Phinks, no.”

Phinks swung his arm again, a gust of wind blowing directly at Feitan’s legs. “Phinks, _yes_ ,” the blond said with a smirk. He got a good look at Feitan’s thighs, but between the noirette’s carefully placed hands and the wind tunnel of the small alley not working to his advantage, he still couldn’t see anything else. “Let me see, Fei.”

Feitan shook his head, one hand placed at the front of his thighs, the other placed at the back. “It’s too embarrassing.”

Phinks swung his arm again, the wind in the alley picking up with the sheer force of it. He aimed his punch at the wall behind Feitan, causing it to crumble into a tall pile of rubble. The rush of falling bricks pushed his skirt forward and Phinks finally got his look.

“Ohh, God,” he moaned. “They’re pink.” He fell to his knees and crawled across the ground to Feitan. When he reached him, he slid his hands up the backs of Feitan’s legs, stopping at the backs of his knees, just above his socks. Phinks pressed the top of his head into Feitan’s fluffy pink sweater and stared down at the white skirt. “You’re killing me, dude.”

Feitan ran his hands through Phinks’ hair. The blond opted to not slick it back today to give him a less severe appearance. It suited Feitan just fine, he preferred Phinks with his hair down anyway. “Baichi,” he used the insult fondly. He watched Phinks hands fist into the soft fabric of his sweater. “Is it really that bad?”

Phinks visibly shook. He pulled lightly on the sweater, causing one of Feitan’s shoulders came into view. “Fei… Lemme touch you.”

“You can’t make it home?” Feitan teased him. He always reveled in how worked up he could get the enhancer before he finally cracked. The way the desperate man kneeling before him pawed at him gave Feitan an immense feeling of power and he relished it.

“I can’t take another step until I get you off,” Phinks admitted against Feitan’s stomach.

Feitan smirked. He bumped one of his knees against Phinks’ chest and pushed the blond’s shoulders away with his hands. Phinks let go of him, frowning at the loss of contact. Feitan then lifted his leg, bending his knee. Phinks saw a delicate flash of pink satin for a millisecond before Feitan’s foot was on his shoulder. He pushed Phinks down onto the ground with his foot, then knelt over his face.

Phinks sighed happily, his mouth kissing and licking at Feitan’s inner thighs. He reached up and cupped Feitan’s ass and squeezed it roughly. He buried his nose between Feitan’s legs and inhaled deeply, growling on his exhale. “God, Fei,” Phinks groaned into the satin material. "You’re so hot I can’t fuckin’ stand it.“

“Good thing you’re laying down, then.” Feitan let his hands rest on Phinks’ head, fisting in his hair.

Phinks nuzzled at Feitan’s crotch, stroking the growing length with his face through the slippery material. He pressed open mouthed kisses and breathed hotly all over Feitan’s dick. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, I’ll have to carry you home.” With that, Phinks slid his hand around Feitan’s side and spread his fingers across his torso over the soft sweater before bringing his hand to Feitan’s face.

Feitan needed no instruction. He grabbed Phinks’ hand in one of his own and began sucking and spitting on his thick fingers while he gyrated his crotch all over the blond’s face. The panties were growing tighter, straining his trapped cock against them. Precum beaded from the tip of him, soaking through. When Phinks tasted it, Feitan could hear the other man’s reaction.

“Fuck dude,” he whined against Feitan’s thigh before biting it. He withdrew his hand from Feitan’s mouth and brought it up under the skirt. He slid his hand inside the panties and traced Feitan’s hole with one finger, rubbing and teasing at the entrance.

Feitan arched his back, pressing his arousal harder against Phink’s face. He wiggled his ass around, trying to get Phinks’ finger inside him. “Tell me what you need,” Phinks said against the spot he bit seconds earlier. He pressed harder against Feitan’s hole, but wouldn’t slide his finger inside.

Feitan pushed his skirt up against his stomach to look Phinks in the face. He was flushed and pouting.“Phinks,” he panted. “Put your fingers in me.”

Phinks’ eyes traveled up Feitan’s torso to watch the other’s reactions. He slid a finger into Feitan up to his second knuckle and stroked him slowly, reveling in feeling the other’s heartbeat around his finger. He pushed a second finger in and smiled against Feitan’s balls when the man straddling his face gasped.

Twisting his wrist, Phinks aimed for the spot he knew would make Feitan fall apart. He curled his fingers and rubbed slow and careful against Feitan’s prostate. With his other hand he stroked Feitan’s member through the flimsy material. Phinks had his own needs, but he also had his priorities.

Feitan let out a strangled sob and let his head drop to his chest. He slid backward down Phinks’ prone form, rutting his way against the other man as he went. He smoothed his thumbs over the enhancer’s cheekbones before kissing him hard, tongue forcing its way into the other’s mouth. “Stretch me, please” Feitan groaned. “I want you.”

Phinks gave Feitan’s ass a quick slap. “Turn around,” he instructed. Feitan crawled over Phink’s body and pulled his pants down just enough to free the length of him. He was already hard and dripping for Feitan. The noirette couldn’t hold back his delighted mewl when he slid his mouth over the head.

Phinks pulled Feitan’s saliva and precum soaked panties down before spitting between the tips of his thumb and first two fingers. He wasted little time in preparing Feitan, easing his index and middle finger inside and curved them toward Feitan’s prostate again. He sucked and drooled over his other index finger before pushing it in as well. Phinks scissored his other two fingers while he pushed the finger away from them. “Open up for me, Fei,” Phinks whispered before pressing his tongue inside him.

Feitan moaned and sighed onto Phinks’ cock while he rutted his hips, pushing the other’s fingers deeper inside. He pulled his head up, a long line of saliva attaching him to the other. “I’m ready, I can’t wait any longer,” he sobbed. He eased himself up off of Phink’s fingers long enough to slide the panties off of one of his legs before he turned around to face Phinks.

The blond cradled his hips and sat up to kiss him as he eased himself down on him. They both hissed once Feitan sank down past the head of Phinks’ dick. Feitan gasped into Phinks’ mouth as tears started forming in his eyes. Concerned, Phinks wiped at the corner of Feitan’s eye. “You okay? We can stop if it hurts.”

Feitan shook his head. “It’s too good,” he admitted, sinking lower. He locked his arms around Phinks’ neck and whined. “It’s just too good.”

Once Feitan was fully seated, Phinks kissed him softly. He massaged the other’s ass through the skirt and pushed his hair away from his face. “If I can’t move soon, I’m gonna die,” he sighed, feeling the other pulse around him.

He felt Feitan grind down against him. “So move, baichi.”

Phinks needed little more instruction than that. He bucked his hips up into Feitan while the other slide down the length of him. He closed his fist around Feitan’s weeping cock and smeared the precum over his fingers before stroking him in time with their thrusting. Feitan sighed and panted, kissing Phinks’ mouth, his neck, his forehead while babbling in Chinese, sometimes growling, other times nearly sobbing. Phinks knew he was getting close.

“Don’t hang on for my sake, Fei,” Phinks said into his neck. “Come for me.” Not a minute later, he felt Feitan’s walls closing down on him before the spray of cum dirtied his fingers. “Mmm, there ya go,” Phinks praised him, kissing his cheek. The pulsing around his dick and his increasingly frenzied thrusting had Phinks meeting him in the afterglow soon after.

Phinks laid back and pulled Feitan with him, ruffling his hair. Once they caught their breath, Feitan slid up, pulling himself up off of the other man. “You got us all dirty,” he admonished. He went to pull the panties back up his legs, but given their soaked, ruined state he thought better of it. “Look what you’ve done.”

The enhancer grinned at his handiwork. “Nice.” He snatched the panties away from Feitan and shoved them in his jacket pocket. “I’ll hang onto these for you.”

Feitan huffed at him. “Let’s just get back so we can clean up.”

Phinks stood and righted his clothes. “Think anyone’ll know?”

“If they have eyes, I’m sure,” Feitan said. He jumped forward when Phinks’ hand laid a slap across his ass.

“Let’s be quick, then. Can’t have some pervert looking up your skirt, right?”

“Right…” Feitan agreed. He blinked in surprise when Phinks lifted him. “What are you-”

“Told you,” Phinks explained. “I was gonna carry you home.”

Feitan rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Stupid.”


	19. Another Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phinks poses a problematic hypothetical.

Phinks slams the empty mug down onto the wooden bar top before letting out a rowdy “Woo!”. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and slaps Feitan on the back. “Gimme another,” he says when the bartender makes the eye contact she’s been avoiding for the past ten minutes.

“One more for me as well,” his companion says. Feitan plucks the tiny paper umbrella from his glass and shoves it away. He spins it between long, pale fingers. 

“She shouldn't charge you for another drink. Th’ thing was mostly ice anyway,” Phinks complains into Feitan’s ear, unaware the bartender could hear him perfectly. The noirette blushes at the proximity. 

“I’m not bothered by it,” he says. “You shouldn't be, either.”

Phinks opens his mouth to protest, but his attention is diverted when a new, frosty mug is slid in front of him. “Nothin’ can bother me right now, bro.” He slings his arm around Feitan’s slight frame and pulls the smaller man against him. “To a job well done!” Phinks raises his mug, but Feitan’s drink isn't ready yet. 

Not one to leave his friend hanging, Feitan clinks his mostly-ice filled glass from his last drink against Phinks’ mug. “A job well done,” he agrees. 

Pleased, Phinks sips his beer. He let's go of the smaller man and swivels on the bar stool, knees bumping Feitan’s occasionally. “I can't help but think…” He starts. “…d’ya think we’d still be bros if it weren't f’ the Spider?”

Feitan is caught off-guard by the hypothetical question. He's never considered the scenario, not really. Phinks has always just sort of been there. He wasn't an original member of the Troupe, but he was recruited soon after its formation. Feitan and Phinks have been more or less inseparable ever since. He frowns, not entirely sure they would be ‘bros’. 

No one in the Troupe really keeps outside acquaintances. They separate from time to time, sure, but they never form outside attachments. It could compromise the Spider. And the Spider always comes first. Everyone knows that.

Feitan supposes if he met Phinks outside of the Phantom Troupe, he’d likely kill him. Although, if there were never a Spider to being with… who could say? Meteor City is a huge place and their chances of running across one another would have been fairly slim. Feitan can't fathom an instant in which he and Phinks could be friends outside of the Phantom Troupe. The very thought troubles him.

Phinks’ inebriated drawl snaps him from his contemplation. “Y’gonna drink that, or d’ya need my help, Fei?” Feitan blinks and looks from Phinks’ flushed face to where the blond is pointing. Oh. His drink finally came.

“I can manage,” Feitan tells him, setting the paper umbrella on the bar top.

“Ya okay, bro?” Phinks asks into his beer.

Feitan nods and sips from his drink. “Sure.”

The blond isn't buying it. “C’mere here, ya need a hug.” He pushes his beer away and grabs Feitan by his hips.

“What the Hell—“ Feitan doesn't finish his thought as he’s carried from his stool into Phinks’ lap. Muscled arms trap him against the other man’s chest. “Phinks, no,” he protests weakly.

“Phinks, yes.” Phinks argues against the top of his head. “Y’know, Fei… I like to think we’d be real good friends even if we met differently” He tightens his hold minutely before loosening his grip on the smaller man. “You think so, too, don't ya?”

Feitan looks up at Phinks and wishes they weren't in a dive bar with a bartender’s prying eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. He fingers curl into the fabric of Phinks’ jacket as he presses his forehead to the blond’s chest. When the burning on his cheeks subsides, he shoves playfully at Phinks. “Idiot,” he says, half laughing.

Pleased, Phinks grins and set Feitan back on his own barstool. “Another round!” He raises his half-filled beer mug.

“You're not even done with that one.”

“Another round!” Phinks shouts anyway.


	20. Best Seat in the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW-ish. Short sappy drabble while they're doin' the do.

Phinks’ hips pushed forward. Feitan’s eyes clouded over as he was entered. It was a deep, burning, stretching pain. No matter how much Phinks prepared him, this part always, always hurt. Feitan tried slowing his breaths, tried focusing on Phinks. A shallow sob escaped him anyway.

“Oh… don't cry, Fei,” Phinks whispered, leaning down and kissing him. “Should I stop?”

Feitan shook his head and tears spilled down his cheeks. “It’ll pass. It always does.”

“I’m sorry,” Phinks apologized, stilling. He withdrew and spooned himself behind the noirette. “This shouldn't hurt. I'm supposed to make you feel good.” He buried his nose in his hair. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again, pulling Feitan’s back tighter to his chest. 

“Don't.” Feitan said. “Stop apologizing, it's fine.”

“Should I have prepared you longer? Used more lube? You’re the only dude I’ve ever slept with so I don't know…” Phinks asked, trailing off.

Feitan shook his head. “It's not that, baichi.” He turned to face Phinks and nuzzled his nose into his throat. The blond smelled like sweat and stale cologne. “You're just… really big.”

Phinks looked down and smiled. “Yeah?”

“Of course, stupid.” Feitan pushed at his chest. “Don't pretend you don't know.”

“I dunno. It looks kinda average from here.”

“Well, it's big to me,” Feitan argued, taking Phinks into his hand. He stroked him slowly while kissing his chest. “And even if it hurts for a minute,” he sat up and pushed on Phinks’ shoulder to roll him onto his back. Feitan positioned himself over Phinks, then sank down the length of him. “It's still my favorite place to sit.”


	21. You can't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this in second person, which I rarely do for the Numbers Drabble Fic Meme #24 "You never loved me, you loved what I could give you"

You’re frustrated and angry, but mostly hurt. “I guess it's just as well. How I didn't see this coming is beyond me. Aren't you even going to say anything?”

You receive no response as he continues to stare out the window. At what, you have no idea. There’s nothing out there worth looking at. Although, in light of recent discovery, you suppose he'd rather look at anything that isn't you.

“Usually this is the other way around,” you inform the side of his head. “You're the one who won't shut up and I'm the quiet one.”

He sighs, but doesn't say anything.

“So this is how it's gonna be from now on, isn't it? You're just going to ignore me forever? We fucking work together, idiot!” You're so angry, so betrayed you don’t even regret the flinch he gives after you slap his face.

“All this time,” you choke on your words, then swallow to regain your composure. No one’s ever seen you like this, not even him. “All this time and it was nothing to you.”

Your accusation lands. He looks away from the window for the briefest of moments, blinking. He opens his mouth, but you’ll be god damned if he's going to say his piece. He hasn't said anything until now, so why should he bother?

“You never loved me, Phinks,” you spit. “You loved what I could give you.”

He doesn't dignify that with a response and you feel stupid for even expecting one. 

A small part of you really wants to kill him. It would be fairly easy, you imagine. You were always faster than him and his head would be on the floor before he realized what had happened. Such revenge would be a balm to soothe the sting of betrayal, but it's a temporary fix and you know that.

And you can't stand the thought of him dead, anyway.

“I didn't mean for things to happen the way they did,” he says finally and you want to laugh.

“Didn't mean for me to find out is more what it sounds like,” you say. 

“We were going to tell you, Fei,” he insists. He looks you in the eye and you're the one to break the eye contact. You feel so sick you can't even bear to look at him.

“’We’, huh?” You ask. “So you’re a ‘we’ now? That happened fast.” 

“I never thought-“

You're done. 

You punch him hard in the stomach. Of course he didn't think. When has he ever? You did all the thinking for the both of you. Thinking was your job. You were supposed to be the brains. The tactician, the strategist. You knew what to say to whom and how to say it. You knew how much was too much to divulge. He just needed to listen. All he needed to do was listen. He couldn't fucking listen.

You were drinking after a job years ago. You felt warm and a little dizzy, but mostly warm. Your head was light as your mood. You’d had such a weird crush on him for so long. Danchou sent the two of you off to find some rare gem or whatever, and after you returned from the job, Phinks produced a bottle of wine. 

“To celebrate,” he told you.

You smiled behind your scarf, digging a bottle of wine from your bag as well.

“Great minds, huh, Fei?” He asked.

And you remember your ears burning at the nickname. No one had ever called you that before. Always ‘Feitan’.

“Great minds,” you agreed and the two of you clinked your wine bottles together before drinking straight from them.

Things progressed the way things do when people drink and get a little handsy with each other. Before you knew it, you were on your back with Phinks between your legs and nothing but humid York New summer air and sweat between you. 

Afterward, Phinks lay on his back with you curled against him. You watched him exhale lazy trails of smoke, following the trails until they spread and dissipated under the ceiling fan. Neither of you said a word about your encounter until he spoke up, pulling you back from the edge of sleep.

“No homo,” he said it quietly and you huffed a short laugh.

You were done for. You fell head over heels (okay, maybe heels over head in your instance) in love with him.

Looking back, you probably should have told him as much. 

If you told him how you felt…

“Look, Fei, I’m really sorry.”

If you spoke up just once…

“I had no idea you felt that way.”

Even if you only said it one time…

“I really did like you. I was just never sure how you felt.”

You wouldn't be having this terrible conversation.

None of this is his fault and you can honestly only be angry with yourself. 

“Can we still be friends, Fei?” He asks you, hopeful.

You want to tell him ‘I’ll never be your friend,’ but you know if you can't be friends, you'll likely never speak to each other. And you can't handle that.

“We can.”

You can't.


	22. Like Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Response to the Numbers Fic Drabble Meme for #21 "Stop doing this to yourself"

Phinks leans on the railing of the balcony and looks at the street below. It's a good ten stories from the ground and he figures once he's got the information he needs, it’ll look like a suicide. Nothing suspicious about it at all.

He thinks he's done about all he can do, interrogation-wise. Now is a good a time as any for a break. His prisoner can have a moment to reconsider the information they're withholding; he can have a smoke. Win-win. He’s lighting up when his phone rings. Looking at the screen, he grins.

The contact screen shows a picture of Feitan Phinks took almost a year ago. The Transmuter is sprawled out, sweaty, and his hair’s a mess. His face is flushed, his lips parted, and his eyes are heavily lidded. Phinks loves this picture. He thumbs the answer icon. “Yo.”

“I'm here, can you buzz me in? I don't know which apartment number you're in,” Feitan says quietly.

Phinks walks back inside, cigarette still burning. It's rude to smoke in someone else’s house, but that will be the least of this guy’s worries once Feitan gets upstairs. He passes a bedroom holding his prisoner, a wealthy man bound to a chair on the floor. The chair having been knocked over after Phinks broke all his fingers. The prisoner’s eyes follow Phinks to the intercom.

Still on the phone, Phinks tells Feitan that he's in apartment number 104 as he pushes the ‘open’ button to let him into the building. He steps away from the intercom and says “Door’s unlocked,” before hanging up the phone. He crosses the room quickly to flick the cigarette outside to get rid of it. Feitan hates the smell, Phinks remembers. 

Feitan enters the apartment quietly, clicking the door shut behind himself. “I’m here. Where is he?”

Phinks nods toward the kitchen area. “Kitchen.”

Feitan knows he's lying. He senses his soon-to-be victim in one of the bedrooms, but he follows Phinks into the kitchen anyway. He watches the blond lean against the counter and run a hand through his hair. 

“What are you doing, Phinks?” Feitan asks from the other end of the counter Before hopping up to sit there. He still can't quite look the other man in the face, so he settles his eyes on the bowl of fake fruit beside him instead.

Phinks sighs before he says anything. “We haven't really seen each other since that night and I just wanted to catch up, I guess.”

“This is a job, not social hour,” Feitan reminds him. “Do you even need me to interrogate someone, or was this some kind of stupid trap?”

The blond frowns at the word ‘trap’. “Fei, this isn’t a trap.”

Feitan crosses his arms and glares at Phinks.

“Okay, maybe it's kind of a trap to get you to talk to me,” Phinks admits. “I miss you, dude.” He edges closer to the end of the counter Feitan has seated himself atop. 

Feitan crosses his legs and scoots himself further away with his hands. He slides himself to the edge of the granite surface and raises a palm at Phinks. “That's close enough,” he says.

“You can hit me some more if you want,” Phinks says simply. “I know I'd want to.” 

“I’m not going to hit you, shut up.” Feitan growls. “Self pity doesn't suit you.”

“I know it's a bad look,” Phinks sighs. “I just… I needed to talk to you.”

“What about your lo-“ Fei starts.

Phinks shakes his head. “Him? Nah. S’over.”

“That was quick,” Feitan scoffs. 

“Yeah,” Phinks admits. “I broke it off after you told me… well, after the last time I saw you.”

Feitan shakes his head, but says nothing.

“I thought that maybe you and I could-“ Phinks stops, laughs at himself. “Shit, dude, I don't know. Be boyfriends or something.” He frowns. “That sounds stupid, I know, but I hate the way things are now, don't you?” He encroaches on Feitan’s position on top of the counter, not stopping until he's standing in front of the Transmuter. “I want us to be like before.”

Feitan glances away, toward the room containing his victim. “Like before, huh?”

Phinks leans forward, his hands on either side of Feitan’s thighs. “With one difference, at least. Since you know how I feel now. And I know you like me, or at least you used to.” He moves his face toward Feitan’s. The noirette looks the other way, blushing, but resistant. “C’mon, Fei,” Phinks pleads.

Feitan dodges eye contact with the Enhancer a third time, head inclined toward the ceiling. His eyes follow the rotation of the ceiling fan while Phinks’ hands settle on his shoulders. He's pulled closer to the blond and Feitan can faintly smell cigarette smoke on him. Its all too much like that first night so long ago. 

He pushes Phinks and the memory away. “Stop,” he protests. “Stop touching me. We have work-”

“This is more important,” Phinks argues. He wraps his fingers around Feitan’s wrists so the smaller man can't push him away again. He rolls his eyes when he notices Feitan is using Ken. “That's really not necessary, Fei.”

“It might be,” Feitan supplies, aura dissipating. “Now let's get to work. I'm done talking with you.” He hops down from the counter and heads for the bedroom containing his victim. Phinks follows him, hands shoved into his pockets. 

The man cuffed to the chair looks up at the pair and groans. Phinks rights the chair, one-handed, and roughly turns the man's head toward Feitan. “You didn't wanna cooperate for me,” Phinks says to their victim. “I warned you. Now you gotta deal with him.”

Feitan makes short work of their captive, drawing out the information they need as efficiently as he knows how. When he's through, Phinks claps the man on the shoulder and removes his restraints long enough to get him out of the chair. He carries the poor bastard like he's a football out to the balcony, Feitan following close behind them. Phinks makes sure Feitan is watching when he lifts their victim overhead before tossing him carelessly to the ground. 

“Baichi,” Feitan admonishes. “It's not going to look like a suicide now. He's still handcuffed. We should leave before-”

Phinks grabs him by the wrist and pulls him against him. “What did you call me?” He asks. The insult the smaller man so often used as an endearment for Phinks wasn't lost on the blond. He strokes Feitan's cheekbone with his fingers. “Fei…”

Flushed, Feitan wriggles away. He heads back inside, toward the kitchen. “Stop doing this to yourself,” he snaps. 

“You saying that to me or to yourself?” Phinks presses, following him.

“I need a drink,” Feitan announces instead of answering.

“Great minds,” Phinks says it so quietly, Feitan almost doesn't hear it. He ignores the tightness in his chest and hops on the kitchen counter.

Phinks brushes past and Feitan watches him pull a bottle off the wine rack. The blond shoves it at Feitan and he takes it. Once it's opened, Phinks grabs a bottle for himself and opens it as well. The pair clinked the tops of the bottles together before sipping from them.

Phinks leans on the counter, his elbows holding him up. “So…”

“So,” Feitan answers, taking another sip of wine.

The silence hung heavily between them. Phinks thought desperately for something to say as he pulled from his wine bottle. Feitan appeared entirely unbothered, the bastard.

“Uh… music?” Phinks grabs a remote control from the counter and hits a button on it. Feitan would normally groan at the sheer cheesiness of it all, but then Frank Sinatra is crooning ‘Moon River’ over the apartment’s sound system.

“I swear you planned this,” Feitan accuses, setting his wine bottle down.

Phinks adamantly shakes his head, dropping the remote. It cracks on the granite surface. Feitan has the balls to smile at Phinks’ expense.

Feitan crawls across the countertop until he’s level with Phinks. “I don't believe you,” he says, taking the bottle from Phinks’ hand to have a drink from it. “Indirect kiss,” he mutters.

“Fuckin’ nerd,” Phinks says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Feitan’s mouth.

The noirette sets the bottle down and angles his face to kiss Phinks properly. There’s nothing shy or sweet about it. 

“I missed you,” Phinks breathes before sliding his tongue against Feitan’s. “Fuck, I missed you, Fei.”

“Shut up,” Feitan whispers, his hands in the blond’s hair.

Phinks’ hands slide under Feitan’s ass and he easily lifts the noirette. “We've kissed, now its time to make up,” he says, heading toward the bedroom they were just in.

And it's like before.

Only different.


	23. Transportation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very NSFW. Public sex acts on Valentine's Day. Oops.

  
Phinks helps Feitan up from the platform just as the train begins to pull away. The doors close with a soft hiss and they’re off. They sit close together in the sparsely populated car. Phinks manspaces himself out while Feitan sits beside him, one leg crossed over Phinks’ knee.

“How long til we get home?” Phinks asks.

Feitan frowns, looking at his phone. “Looks like two hours. If we stay running on time.”

The blond pouts. “I can't wait that long.”

“Oh no?” Feitan challenges him.

Phinks glares.

After a mission is completed, Phinks enjoys doing three things in this very order: get a drink, get laid, get some sleep. It seems while he and Feitan were busy accomplishing the first item on Phinks’ to-do list, they didn't give enough time for the last two. Now they're on the last train out of York New and Phinks is concerned the second item on his post-job itinerary won't get checked off.

Lucky for Phinks, Feitan’s post-job goals are usually in line with his own.

Feitan slides his palm from his own knee to Phinks’ thigh. He watches the few other people in the train car for a moment to see if any have observed his behavior. They haven't. Perfect. Long, thin fingers creep across the muscled mass of Phinks’ thigh until they reach his lap.

Phinks’ eyes snap from watching the passing scenery to down his lap and he's got all of half a second before he sees Feitan sneak his hand inside his pants.

“Fei, wha- haaaah,” he gasps quietly as cool fingers close around his cock. To keep himself quiet he bites his bottom lip, hard.

Feitan meets his eyes and licks his lips at the Enhancer, taunting him silently. “Something wrong, _baichi_?” He asks, pumping him slowly.

Phinks swallows audibly and shakes his head. No noise leaves him aside from a harassed huff of breath here and there as Feitan strokes him to hardness.

“You sure you're okay?” Feitan teases, his thumb sliding over the head of Phinks’ dick. He presses down and spreads what pre-cum has already gathered there. “You look like you're having a hard time.”

Phinks is flushed and his bottom lip has gotten swollen and red from biting it so much. “You're being s-so unfair, dude.”

“What's unfair is how hot you look right now,” Feitan says casually. He shifts in his seat, mindful to keep his busy hand hidden. When he's sure Phinks is watching him, Feitan takes his other hand and rests it in his own lap. He rubs himself discreetly, meeting Phinks’ eyes. “Look what you're doing to me with those little noises.” Feitan flattens his hand against his pants so Phinks can see the outline of his hard cock. “Mmm… So naughty, _baichi_ ,” he says and he has the nerve to fucking pout.

Phinks whimpers quietly, and crosses his legs. He can't believe this exhibitionist side of Feitan exists. It's embarrassing. And hot.

“Just wait till I get you home, you pervert,“ Phinks nearly groans. He hisses as Feitan twists his wrist and changes the pressure of his hand.

“Threaten me with a good time and you’ll have to follow through, you know,” Feitan warns him. He slips his hand out of Phinks’ pants after giving his length an appreciative squeeze. “I doubt you’ll make it home without making a mess, however.”

“You're such an asshole,” Phinks complains. He crosses his legs again and tries to arrange his pants in a way to make his raging hard on look a little less intimidating.

“Your favorite asshole,” Feitan chuckles lightly, still rubbing his hand over himself. He arches his back some and lolls his head to the side, showing Phinks his neck. The long column of flesh is littered with red and purple marks Phinks put there himself.

The train slows to a stop and the other passengers in their car hurry either off the train completely or into other cars. The pair sit in silence until the train starts moving again.

“You've scandalized them with your sexual harassment,” Phinks admonishes.

“Oh, and you're such a saint,” Feitan fires back. “Sitting there with your giant boner.”

“You made it that way, take some responsibility,” Phinks dares him, gesturing at his crotch.

“Gladly,” Feitan responds and hikes his robe up to his chest before swinging a leg over Phinks’ lap to straddle him. He pulls his pants down to his knees and lets his robe fall most of the way down, holding it up in the front at his stomach. He reaches down and unzips Phinks’ pants, then pulls his cock out.   
  
Phinks’ hands fly to Feitan’s waist and he drags him tight against his chest. “You're so bad,” he growls against his mouth. He feels Feitan line their cocks against each other, then wrap a hand around both of them. Phinks leans forward and kisses Feitan hard and desperate. He nips at the Transmuter’s bottom lip, then sucks on it briefly. Feitan sighs into Phinks’ mouth and pokes his tongue out to lick at him. Phinks meets him half way and their tongues slide together.

Feitan brings his fingers to Phinks’ mouth and the blond needs no further instruction. He watches the taller man suck and lick and drool all over his fingers while their hips buck and gyrate against each other. Feitan can feel himself leaking all over Phinks’, or is it Phinks leaking on him? He's not sure and he doesn't care and once his fingers are coated in saliva, Feitan reaches down and strokes their lengths together.

Phinks moans against Feitan’s neck before biting into it. He reaches back and slides his hands down Feitan’s ass to dig his fingers into the soft flesh there. He can't help but push his hips up into Feitan’s hand. It's shameless and they're in public, and he's kind of embarrassed but too horny to care and before he knows it, Feitan is making those desperate little noises he makes before he comes.

“Mmm,” Feitan purrs. “I'm so close.”

“I know, baby,” Phinks croons. He massages Feitan's ass cheeks and kisses and bites at his neck and mouth. “Go ahead,” Phinks urges him.

Feitan’s head snaps back and his entire body goes rigid. Phinks watches his flushed face, his rolling eyes, his mouth open in a silent scream. Sticky ropes of cum spill over both of their dicks and with Feitan in the throes of his orgasm, Phinks takes matters into his own hand to finish the job. It's not long before Phinks’ hand is stuttering, squeezing and sliding their lengths together. Feitan is twitching and gasping from over-stimulation, but it's urging Phinks on all the harder.

He growls out Feitan’s name as he comes, spilling over his hand. The man in his lap slumps forward, eyes heavily lidded and sleepy. They sit like that for a moment, collecting their breath as their heart rates settle.

Feitan sits up after a moment. He climbs off Phinks’ lap and pulls his pants back up. He was right, he knew they’d make a mess. He leans forward to kiss Phinks’ forehead, then tucks the other man back into his pants. Phinks sighs dreamily and twines his fingers with Feitan's for a second before letting his hand fall to his side. “You're lucky I love you. I gotta get this dry cleaned again,” he complains, sleepiness slurring his words.

Feitan sits back down and doesn’t have it in him to complain when Phinks lies across their seats with his head pillowed in his lap. “We’ll worry about it later,” he pets the messy blond curls in his lap. “Sleep for now, _baichi_. We’ll be home in a little while.”

Phinks grumbles something unintelligible and he's softly snoring not a minute later.


	24. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feitan returns from a long job. NSFW.

Four months. It’s not a terribly long time to be parted from an acquaintance or co-worker. Hell, probably even a family member, though Feitan knows nothing about that last part.

Four months _is_ a long time to be parted from a lover. Days are months, months are years and all the texting and Skype-ing and dick pic trades in the world can’t make up for lack of proximity. Miles are yards, then mere inches once Feitan invites himself into the shitty little apartment where Phinks has been staying in-between jobs.

It’s filthy and Phinks has definitely been living the bachelor’s life. Paper plates and beer cans overflow from the trash can in the tiny, gross kitchen and everything stinks like cigarette smoke. He’s been smoking indoors while Feitan’s been gone and Feitan hates that. In the living room, an ashtray overflows with stubbed out, half-broken, half-smoked cigarettes. Near the ashtray, a tower of porn DVDs threatens to topple and scatter should someone sneeze near it. At the edge of the coffee table, atop a pile of pizza boxes, Phinks’ phone blinks- a tiny, red beacon warning of missed notifications.

Curiosity gets the better of him and Feitan picks the phone up. He presses the round button at the bottom of the phone and can't help the quirk of his lips at Phinks’ lock screen. It’s a photo of Feitan with his middle fingers up, his face obscured by his scarf. “Lovestruck idiot,” he says and he isn't sure if he means Phinks or himself. When he slips into Phinks’ bedroom, he's got his answer.

Phinks is laid out, flat on his back and spread wide on a bed that looks entirely too small for him. He’s wearing a stained t-shirt a size too small for him and those sleazy looking, silky pajama bottoms. Feitan remembers teasing him for stealing them. Phinks rationalized his acquirement with the simple reason ‘It feels good on my dick.’ Idiot.

The blankets seem to have been kicked to the floor and a pillow suffers Phinks’ death grip, trapped between the crook of his elbow and his chest. Now and again, his foot twitches or he scratches his chest while making a nonsensical, sleepy noise.

He’s so endearing that sometimes it physically hurts Feitan to even _look_ at him. Phinks makes him so weak and Feitan hates that he loves him for it. He hates it so much he pulls all his clothes off and climbs onto the bed to curl up with him.

Once he's in the bed, Feitan pushes Phinks’ curly hair from his forehead and settles himself down against him. The blond is warm, always has been. Feitan burrows his way under Phinks’ arm to take the pillow’s place and sighs, his hands resting on Phinks’ stomach just below the spot where his t-shirt rides up.

“Fuck, your hands are cold,” Phinks drawls, half asleep.

Feitan hums and slides his hands up and under Phinks’ shirt anyway. His palms open and his fingers spread across the ridges and valleys of Phinks’ muscular abdomen. One hand travels up Phinks’ side, fingers curling up and under the blond’s shoulder. Phinks hisses, jumping slightly at the cold fingers. Feitan chuckles at the reaction, his index finger dipping into the shallow indentation of Phinks’ navel. “Cute,” Feitan teases him.

“You’re so weird,” Phinks complains, eyes still shut.

“You're so warm,” Feitan counters, drawing himself closer against the tall blond. He sits up, kneeling at Phinks’ side. “I hate this shirt,” he complains quietly. His fingers bunch at the hem of Phinks’ hole-filled, threadbare t-shirt- a dingy, formerly-white thing with a faded “I❤YN” logo on it.

“You wear it every time you stay over,” Phinks says, sitting up. He reaches back, between his own shoulder blades and pulls the shirt over his head. It’s barely off him all the way before Feitan’s cold hands are back on him and his eyes fully open.

“Shut up,” Feitan playfully shoves Phinks onto his back before straddling him.

Phinks grins, leaning back. He takes Feitan’s wrists into his hands and drags the smaller man atop him. Big, warm palms rub up and down Feitan’s slight back as he writhes and crawls up Phinks’ body. Their lips meet and Phinks hums happily. His hands cradle Feitan’s face, thumbs on his cheekbones and fingers winding their way under his ear and toward the back of his neck.

Feitan sighs into Phinks’ mouth before pushing against the blond’s chest to sit himself up. Phinks’ hands slide down Feitan’s neck, past his shoulders to his chest. He drags his palms down Feitan’s torso, stopping at his hip bones. Phinks’ thumbs rest in the graceful indentations while his fingers dig greedily into Feitan’s ass cheeks.

Feitan squirms on top of Phinks, arching his back. His naked erection brushes against Phinks’ clothed one and the silky friction makes him light-headed. Phinks squeezes his ass and drags him bodily against him, their lengths rubbing together fully. Feitan moans and Phinks takes that as a sign to continue, rutting Feitan against him. Phinks’ hips leave the bed and he groans, pressing Feitan all the tighter to him.

Phinks is hard and hot beneath him and while dry humping his boyfriend through his formerly stupid, silky pajama pants feels good, Feitan doesn't want to cum that way. He closes his fingers over Phinks’ wrists, signaling him to stop. The blond beneath him stills, hands easing their grip on his ass. Phinks’ chest rises and falls, breath leaving him in ragged pants. Sweat beads beautifully on his forehead and thick golden curls plaster themselves against his dark skin.

Feitan leans down and kisses the brief confusion from Phinks’ face. “You look so good,” he says and Phinks hums at the praise. He slides his hands over the sides of Phinks’ chest to push his pectorals together. Feitan’s thumbs brush purposefully over Phinks’ dark nipples, drawing a sharp inhale from the blond. He rolls one of Phinks’ sensitive nipples between his fingers, bending down to kiss the other one.

Feitan licks lazily at the tightening bud in his mouth. He draws it in, sucking gently before releasing it. He tugs on Phinks’ other nipple as his teeth graze this one. Phinks’ hips buck up off the bed when Feitan alternates his attentions. Just within his periphery, Feitan sees Phinks’ fist in the sheets at his side, pulling them taut under his gnarled, veiny hands. He smirks, reveling in the knowledge that only he can draw this reaction from his lover.

Phinks reaches for the back of Feitan’s head, guiding his face to his own. Cheeks dusted pink and pupils blown black, Feitan is positive he's never seen anything so beautiful as the man under him. The blond nuzzles his crooked nose against Feitan’s narrow one before kissing him softly. His mouth lingers, breath puffing hotly against Feitan’s bottom lip. “Am I still dreaming?” He whispers.

Feitan shakes his head, pushing some of his own hair behind his ear. “No. I'm here.”

“Good,” Phinks says. He guides Feitan’s head lower to kiss the pale flesh of his neck. “I missed you,” Phinks admits and Feitan has to bite his bottom lip to keep from smiling. He's missed Phinks, too. Four months is a long time.

“Show me,” Feitan dares him.

Phinks wraps his arms around Feitan tightly before rolling them over. He kneels between Feitan’s thighs and leaves trails of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his lithe body. He half-sighs, half-growls at the sight beneath him. Feitan is on his back, breath coming fast. He’s flushed from the tips of his ears to his chest. Pale, pink nipples stand at attention and his hard cock lies against his stomach, red and swollen.

Phinks pushes the hair back from Feitan’s brow to kiss his forehead. “You're a fucking sight,” he groans, fingers teasing over a nipple. Feitan arches his back and mewls when Phinks pinches him. “I love working you up like this.” Phinks moves his hand further down Feitan’s now-fevered skin. He pushes at the inside of one of Feitan’s soft thighs, spreading him wide open. Phinks licks his lips, watching Feitan’s cock twitch.

Phinks stretches his body over Feitan’s, reaching past him to grab lube and a condom from his bedside table. He kisses his mouth briefly on his way back between his legs. Lying on his stomach, Phinks opens the lube and spreads it over three fingers. When he rubs at Feitan’s hole, Feitan squirms and writhes under him, trying to encourage Phinks to press his fingers inside him. The blond is teasing him on purpose, and Feitan would be angry if he weren’t so turned on.

Phinks holds Feitan still with his free hand, fingers pressing hard into his hip. Feitan whines in response, one leg hooking over Phinks’ shoulder. With his knee, he guides Phinks’ face toward his crotch. Feitan takes himself in hand and rubs his cock against Phinks’ mouth. He feels Phinks’ impatient growl against his dick as it slides inside. The blond’s mouth is wet and warm and when his tongue drags against the underside of the head of his cock, Feitan moans.

The heel of Feitan’s foot digs into Phinks’ back while his spindly fingers card their way into his hair, pulling lightly. Phinks holds Feitan’s thigh open, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. With his other hand, he slips two fingers inside Feitan, curling them.

Feitan hisses and slowly fucks his way into Phinks’ mouth. He rests one hand on Phinks’ cheek and presses it inward, feeling his cock thrust in and out of him. Phinks’ fingers brush his prostate and Feitan’s vision flashes white and he's sure nothing will ever feel this good until Phinks’ hollows his cheeks and hums on his dick. The blond sucks at him greedily, adding a third finger and scissoring them apart. Feitan’s prostate is rubbed again and Phinks moans again, sucking down his pre-cum.

It's a Herculean effort, but Feitan manages to tap Phinks’ wrist, signaling him to stop. The blond makes a whine of complaint before taking his mouth off of him. His fingers remain where they are, spreading as far apart as he can get them. Feitan watches as Phinks admires the beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip of him. Phinks licks it up, then looks Feitan in the eyes. “You ready for me?”

Feitan nods, fingers massaging Phinks’ scalp. “Yeah,” he answers him, voice so thick and low he doesn't recognize it as his own.

Phinks wastes no time in ripping the condom packet open. He wrestles his pants down his legs before sliding the condom on and slicking himself up. He takes a moment to dump some more lube on his fingers, then swirls them inside Feitan briefly before lining himself up. He pushes inside Feitan slowly, not stopping until he’s balls deep. Phinks’ breath hitches and his shoulders shake before he falls to his elbows. “Fuck, I missed you,” he groans.

Feitan cups Phinks’ face in his hands. “You've said,” he teases him. He wraps his legs around Phinks’ waist and wiggles his hips. “You can move now.”

Phinks sobs in relief and pulls himself out half way before thrusting all the way back in. He’s slow and gentle in his movements and the purpose behind them makes Feitan’s chest feel tight. Phinks buries his face in Feitan’s neck and Feitan holds him there, eyes screwed shut. “You smell good,” Phinks mutters, lips on his neck. “And you taste good,” he says, thrusting in and angling his hips just so and Feitan barely hears him when Phinks says “and you _feel_ good.”

Feitan would normally tease him, but the sheer honesty Phinks exhibits in moments like this utterly undo him. He never wants to let him go, never wants to be apart from him again, but he knows how reality works for his kind. There's no happy ending for the bad guys. So he takes whatever he can get, whenever he can get it and he’s all too grateful that its Phinks who gives it to him. Feitan knows they’ll both die sooner rather than later. Selfishly, he hopes he's first.

Phinks pulls away from his neck to kiss him, and Feitan clings all the harder to him. Blunt nails dig into Phinks’ shoulder and back while they lazily thrust against each other. Phinks sobs into Feitan’s mouth and his cocks drags its way against his prostate and Feitan can't hear or see anything for a flash of a second.

He’s rigid, spasming, and his load dumps all over his stomach. His grip slips on Phinks’ sweaty back and his legs give way around Phinks’ waist. The blond meets him soon after, all erratic thrusts and clenching fingers digging deep into his hips. Feitan can't wait to look for the bruises tomorrow.

Phinks is still inside Feitan when he tells him that he loves him.

Minutes later, when Phinks is fast asleep, Feitan returns the sentiment.

 


End file.
